Most times I don't update is because I'm tired when I finally get near the computer that I can't think of putting emotion into words.

Tonight, or this morning rather, I'm just going to bed, it's 5 a.m. A perfect example of insomnia for any of those doubters out there. Not feeling so hot lately, think I might take a trip up North to visit family for the holidays. Maybe I will stay a few days longer to recharge before coming back to London.

There was something about driving through the rain slicked streets at 3 in the morning. The rain beaded down the windshield at stop lights. The reassuring sound of the wipers scraping water from my vision. My cigarette smoke swirling out of the window. It was something profoundly lonely. Not lonely for some stick of meat in bed with me. Not lonely for lack of people. I guess lonely that it seems I can't roll up my sleeves and get my shit together like everyone else on this planet. I don't want to be that girl who is perpetually floundering through life. No one is able to fix that, just me. And it's a bit scary because I'm not sure if I am able to. Or even know how to.

This has been a self pity party for myself. I'm sure everyone has gotten their invitations. Cheques are in the mail.

G.

Labels: bipolar, melancholy