Tuesday, April 14, 2020

We see the tunnel at the end of the tunnel

I'm just fucking tired. The dog keeps getting out. It's never a good time for it. I have no choice to put off going to get her. Every time she escapes my life becomes more exciting. But I don't want my life to feel exciting right now. Excitement doesn't feel good. It feels forced. It is forced. 

Everything feels forced upon me right now. Every time I blink there's some new thing that I'm supposed to be doing, with fewer and fewer older and comfortable things to do. I just want to lie in bed and to be left alone, all day, maybe with some music. I want to read. I want a glass of wine. 

I could sleep for a thousand years.