Pining For… Substance

Delightfully Maladjusted

Oh dear, the cable is out

It is 4:28 am and I am staring at a wall in my living room. There are some pictures there of good times. I can’t even remember the last time I had a good time, or hell a good thought. Maybe it was last night at 3am watching silly mating dances of birds on YouTube. I chuckled, I giggled, and it was a pretty good time. This is my life, 3am YouTube parties, talking to myself and staring at walls. I talk to my cat; she murmurs the kitty equivalent of STFU and go to sleep. My world is consumed with dark and bitter thorns. I feel like throwing the remote control at my cheap, black-streaked television because cable and internet have gone down again for the second time tonight, and how am I supposed to stay numb if I can’t get lost in late night TV, funny memes, or all the rage about the new mini ipad online? Is it maintenance or did they finally shut it off? I was greedily reading tales from the underclass on, and I was relating through my screen—the only friend I know well anymore—I was relating to those poor fools like me. Thank God. Thank God it’s not all smiles, it’s not all credit-card-financed-happiness-bullshit, not all God will save me delusions, not all it-will-be-okay-vomit spewing from yet another person who doesn’t have a clue about what it means to hope and lose, not all oh-good-another-my-life-is-going-places-post from a friend I should be happy for but I just want to trip in the aisle of life. That is bad, but that is what is. I try to stay off Facebook these days so that I don’t catapult myself into traffic because I seem to be the only loser I know. I could go and eat, but I have gained eight pounds in as many months. I checked the job boards for the third time today. Nothing. I have applied to 150 jobs now, nothing. I feel like nothing. I have nothing. Looking forward to nothing. My cat has stopped using her litter box so the most exercise I got today was bending over to pick up poop from the bathroom floor. So close kitty, so close. Maybe I could muster up the energy to take a shower or put on some lip balm. The details slide away. Brushing your hair, fighting against chapped lips, wearing actual clothes you could leave the house in—where does all that go? Caring. Where does that go? The cable is back on, whew. Maybe the cable company thinks this is an opportune time for maintenance, because who is up at this hour? Only the hopeless, Comcast.


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