The People Behind My Eyes

I wish Barney hadn’t left a dowel rod on the kitchen counter for a week. I wish I’d said something about it a week ago. Why didn’t I ask him to move it?

I can’t give you another chance. I won’t give you another chance.

I have the money to go buy those red converse but I just can’t bring myself to go get them.

I liked giving you that gift but I didn’t do it out of kindness.

I won’t do too much panicking until the asshole moves in and gives me a specific reason to panic. I can’t believe he’s bringing his little dog. As anal as he is I’m sure he has a Shitzu.

The only colour in this house that’s bright is red.

When I go shopping if I don’t bring home something red I feel sad. It’s strange.

My house is girly. That’s not a complaint.

I don’t look my therapist in the eye when I talk to him.

I miss Maureen.

I’ve been jumpy lately.

You really know how to turn a small imposition into a catastrophe.

When I’m angry my language gets rough. I seem to curse like a sailor. It gets really bad. “Do you want a fuckin cookie? You want some motherfuckin’ milk with that shit?” It really gets bad, not quite that bad but bad enough. My language right now could use some soap.

When everything else seems out of control and unstable I grab onto whatever I feel I can control or keep stable. I just need one thing to stay the same and not change. I’ve eaten pizza daily for over two weeks now. This has to change because I’m lactose intolerant. I’m sure that sounds funny but I’m not happy about the change.

I’ve been painting pretty much non-stop for a few weeks now. There’s a large piece of paper on the door to the restroom, the door leading to Barney’s area as well as in the hallway. I also doodle and have 3 small paintings I’m working on. I need the feel and sound of brush against paper.

Joan

Mismatch Thoughts-Wednesday, May 14^th, 2008-1:06AM EST