I think it’s safe to say now that Friday’s birthday celebration would have been way more enjoyable if I didn’t take the pills. There’s money wasted.
For my birthday, Jyg, Esmer, Jerry and I went to see The Crazies. The movie was awesome. Afterward, we headed to the park to have pizza and cupcakes. The trio sang to me. It’s, hopefully, the start of a new birthday ordeal with us. It’s amazing that I’m even considering celebrating my birthday next year, and other birthdays (mind you), as well.
Looking back on my short life, I think this was the best birthday I’ve ever had. I’m actually happy for a change, rather than moping around. If this is how it feels, then maybe I’ll stay in this state of mind a little bit longer.
I had a dream the other night. My late cousin Damien was sitting at a table with me and a few other people I couldn’t name. I can’t remember much of the dream except at one point, Damien stood up – throwing his chair in the process – slammed his fist upon the table and said “Goddamnit, Willie. What the hell?!”
People say that our dreams are just our subconscious talking to us. Why my cousin, though? I know I’ve carried the burden of dealing with his death alone, keeping certain secrets from my family, but I’ve resolved that. Didn’t I? And what exactly was it that he was angry with me about?
I haven’t talked to anyone about the dream. I tweeted it as a pathetic attempt to be heard, but the question went unanswered. Sorry about that.
Binx called me around 5:30 to ask me if I was going to the party or not. I told him I was feeling sick. I didn’t know. Two hours later, he called and asked again. He tried to guilt trip me into it. After talking with Jyg one more time, I decided to go for it. I told Monica and she came to pick me up. The pills’ effects came in waves, but for the most part, I tried to enjoy myself. Being around Binx wasn’t any different from any other time. Being around Monica was comforting.
Still, I can’t help but to feel that I don’t have a solid place. People who were once close friends feel like strangers. Rather, I feel like the stranger. I hope the feeling passes, but I know better. Whatever path I’m on, doesn’t involve a lot of people from my past. No matter how much I love them. No matter how much I’ll miss them in the long run.
I’ll just have to trek forward. And wherever I come upon, I just hope I’m greeted with the warmth that I once received from them and all those like them.
During my doctor’s visit, the technician asked me about my anxiety issues. She asked if I was taking any medication for it, which I quickly said no. I’ve managed to handle it with certain breathing exercises and whatnot. She asked why I refused medicine and I cited the side effects they seemed to have in common. Told her I would rather deal with them than risk an assault on my body. She nodded and said that sometimes the solution is worse than the problem.
But that’s not all. There are possible SEVERE side effects that I should seek medication should I feel them. They are:
Severe allergic reactions (rash; hives; itching; difficulty breathing; tightness in the chest; swelling of the mouth, face, lips, hands, eyes, throat, or tongue; unusual hoarseness); chest pain; dark urine; fast or irregular heartbeat; fever, chills, or sore throat; red, swollen, blistered, or peeling skin; unusual bruising or bleeding; unusual tiredness; vision changes; yellowing of the eyes or skin.
Started taking notes about my imaginary world as suggested by Alan Moore. I’m not sure if these notes will lead to anything, or if they’ll lead to a series of stories, a larger project or a semi-autobiographical graphic novel. If it’s the latter, I’m not sure who’ll help me with the art as I suck at drawing. I’m the sort of asshole who can’t even draw a straight line and that’s with a ruler.
JD showed interest once, as did Donovan. Both of them bring two different style of art with them. Because it isn’t an adventure story but a real life story, I’m debating which of the two would feel more comfortable within its realms. Of course, that depends on whether I’ll turn them into a script for visual purposes.
Reliving certain parts of my life is feeding the depression that I already feel crawling through me like a cancer. It burns behind my eyes, squeezes my heart. But like Henry Miller said, the best way to get over someone is turn them into literature.
See this not as a funeral for a loved one. See this as a funeral for myself.
Finished rereading Shortcomings by Adrian Tomine today. While not exactly the best graphic novel I’ve read, this second run through was more enjoyable than the last. I’ve been in the mood of reading graphic novels, I suppose in the sense to make up for my lack of commitment to the 100+ book challenge. So I decided to head over to public library and pick a few up.
I picked up:
Age of Desire
Fall of Cthulhu: The Gathering
Batman: Year One
Superman: Red Son
Also checked out Blade Runner: The Final Cut and Lady Chatterley. I looked around to see if they had Like Water for Chocolate, but they only had it on VHS. Called Hollywood Video, which is going out of business, to see if they got their copy back so I could buy it. The guy said they had it already so I went to pick it up and the lady said it was still checked out. It took all I had not to jump over the counter and slug him. I didn’t even cuss him out. Just smiled and left.
My mood’s been unstable lately. This has to do a lot with my depression which is blame for a lot of what I’ve done these last few days. I felt like escaping all day today. I’ve felt like escaping for months now. And despite my positive demeanor about this year, I can’t save face from those around me.
It pissed me off when the guy realized his mistake. While that normally does upset me, it’s not like me to want to punch someone the face. I’m a ticking time bomb. I’m afraid what will happen when I can’t control myself.
I’ve rethought birthday week. I have to. I think I’d be more comfortable if Jyg could attend with me. But who knows. It’s all speculative. Something is nagging at me, telling me no one will truly miss me.
That isn’t the best way to say it, but that the best I can do.
I started on my dream journal yesterday. Didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. Hopefully, when I get a bigger journal, I can make something a little better. This is what I have to work with now.
Because my dream journal’s small, I decided to make a design of my own and not glue on decorations. I started with just the black journal, etched out a pentagram with a metallic marker and then went over that with the glue gun. I let that dry. Then, I went for the black paint and went over the entire journal. Let that dry. With a metallic silver paint I went over the glue-pentagram. Because I wanted more color than just black and silver, I thought painting the inside of the pentagram burgundy was a great idea. I’m beginning to regret it. I’ll probably go over it with black paint, and just stick to a burgundy outline of the pentagram.
Jyg’s working on her doll and in a few, I’ll be going outside with some bottles to spray paint. I’ll have to figure out how to design them later.