Monday, July 25, 2011

Day 1

Crickey - it ain't even Midday and I'm exhausted, gonna rest my head for a few hours before my evening shifts.

I wonder if it's depression making me so pooped - it's something I'll have to face, when I have the time, and can cry in private - but I don't want to. Haven't cried since 'Toy Story 3'.

So I'll just pull up my socks and remind myself that A) you've been working since 6 am for a few weeks now, B) you've been working until 11 pm for even longer, and C) you've been doing it 7 days a week for...um...55 days straight.

If I can convince myself of this last paragraph, then I can justify my lethargy, lack of future, funds, friends and family...

...Lying at the bottom of the depths, even sunlight can't penetrate, and like a dream in slow motion, I struggle every day to awaken in the dark, alone. I can't hear myself scream, can't see the cracks in the mirror.

Don't think I want to, cannot face myself alone.

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