So fuckin’ sad, depressed and powerless. I had only about five bucks in my account, which had to last me until payday on August 1. Cheney floated me $200.00, though…it sucked to accept it but I had to eat. I was skipping lunch at work. I had a dollar on Friday, which paid for the vending machine Sun Chips.
I haven’t even been getting enjoyment from the gym lately. I can’t lose enjoyment in the only things that get me through these depression days…daze. I need to hold onto those things. I need fuckin’ something, anything to cling to. Me and Katie went to Barnes and Noble today. I spent about twelve bucks on the journals above. Cheney said an hour of writing every day always helps her. I guess it’s like what masturbation does for me, maybe.
After Barnes and Noble we came back here and Katie fucked me on the living room area rug. It’s hard to be present…in the moment during depression…even during sex. Your thoughts are always floating elsewhere in the corners of your brain, but they’re rarely focused on what is right in front of you. She was grinding on top of me and I could only think about how the rug underneath me was scratching and burning my shoulders.
Katie is in the bathroom now re-doing her makeup, and the rug burns on the back of my shoulders are fresh and bright red. We’re going to walk down to Lola on Xerxes to get drunk on house wine.