mercredi, septembre 8

scattered pictures of the smiles

Sometimes I think back to how things were just over a year ago. Sure I was fat & getting fatter. I drank two bottles of wine a day. I made almost no money. We argued about that fact. But holy fuck compared to how I feel right now, I'd give anything in the world to magically teleport myself to those moments where I felt like I was at home, not this dislocated sense of being the world's most collossal fuck up.

Though shit let's not kid - I always was the ugly stepsister, doomed to a life alone with my cats, being discovered by my neighbours when my decomposing carcass begins to smell like week old shellfish left on the counter.*

I hate playing the what if game, but sometimes I just can't help myself. What if we'd stayed in Vancouver. What if we'd found a cheaper apartment. What if I'd never taken this job. What if we had paid attention to the stupid little signs that things weren't right. What if I wasn't such an emotional fucking cripple and had been able to express myself 4 months, six months sooner. What if What if What if.

What if and a six pack might catch you a buzz. Probably not, though - it'll just get you fat.

*FYI - that's also pretty much what the Salton Sea smells like.