I feel like shit. I have a head cold that could be the result of a bug going around, or lack of vitamins, or mono (as ___ so helpfully pointed out), or who the fuck knows. Needless to say, it's like my head is stuffed full of cotton balls and razor blades. Did I mention the rest of my life sucks too. The only solace I find is online. It's like I started to lose touch with (waves hand dramatically and sneezes) "all of this", and couldn't seem to reach anyone, any life line, any ground wire-pick your metaphor. so I just floated further and further away. Then, at the last moment, some sense of reality was still clinging to life inside me, and it was ready to come back, but so much else is in the way that I am pushing away the reality I was reaching for before. Sucks to be me.  Too little too late, as they say, and I don't know how I feel about that. I would like to chuck it all, and just spend the rest of my days in the rubber room, just me and my thoughts and those little paper cups of jello that you have to eat with your fingers cos you can't have even a spoon-why a spoon cuz? Because it's duller, it'll hurt more.  And then I think, no, you can't possibly want that, look at what you have here...no, really, look. Okay, look at the potential. Sure, life's a little sketchy now, but this too shall pass, and blah blah blah, and I just want that voice to shut up!!! Nothing seems to be passing, only getting worse, and I literally collapse into the tv, the couch, the web, or just those make-believe arms.  Who knew that life near forty would be so similar to life at fifteen? I suspect alot of it has to do with lack of intimacy. Stop laughing. I read about it. Apparently we all need it. And in real life, not the made up kind.  Well, maybe someone can do a thesis paper on me. I'm already flinching at the most innocuous of touches, and it's a real chore to make eye contact with real people anymore.  I feel totally powerless to stop it though, although I must admit, somedays it's a really great appetite supressant, although even that scares me too. I've read all about people who miss their fat, and I do too. Sometimes it's all I can do not to call Hop Sing. Other days I just do it and to hell with the rest. I'd do it right now if I wasn't so afraid of running out of money for smokes, which is a priority even bigger than my email. I had to go four hours yesterday and damn near killed one of my part timers at work. Wasn't pretty. Last thought: I don't think anyone I know here in town even reads this crap anymore, but it made me feel better just to write it down-some things never change, and well, if you did read it, it's as much as I can do right now. Even if I don't say the words, or you think I'm just being funny, I'm reaching out one last time...