Humph.
I'm coming to you now from my big yellow bed. I'm sitting criss-cross applesauce with my hair pulled into a neat, straight, ponytail. But my composure now is misleading.
Today was the worst day of my whole life.
Now, I realize that phrase is over used. BUT THERE IS A REASON THAT PEOPLE SAY THIS. I learned that lesson today.
I have never had a day even close to this. I mean, like, I have had "off days" but today was of epic-proportions.
But hold up: REWIND
I wish I could tell all of you what happened to me today. But, I can't. All these things that happened involve private matters and emotions that aren't suitable for a blog. Jesus Christ, I am sorry. If I could tell everyone I would, but I don't need the people I would mention harassing me. But I can tell you; it involves losing friends, a crazy workplace, and sore legs and arms.
I'm not writing this post to dwell on my horrific day, but to tell all the people reading this something.
There is always an "end of the day". I live each day without knowing what the fuck I'm doing or where I'm going. Did you know that? No. I bet not. It’s true.
Sometimes when I'm living my life, the rug of comfort is pulled from beneath my feet and the Anti-Christ punches me in the face and laughs as I'm doubled over on the floor.
That’s so true. It happened to me today. It was awful. It was like being hit with a tire iron while you watch your grandmother get smushed by a bus. It was slow-mo disaster. One thing after another just kept hitting me. Disaster was like "Hey, are you Matty?" and I was like "Yeah, what’s up?" and he was like "Haha, get ready to be disappointed in your life!”
I came home today and cried and screamed and cried and screamed. Which was appropriate, by the way, and then I stopped. I didn’t need to cry anymore. What is done is done. C’est la vie my friends, c’est la vie.
Its not the years in the life, it’s the life in the years, okay? I got punched in the face, hit with a tire iron, watched my granny get smashed up by a bus and received a call from Disaster. But I’m alive, right? Right.
I struggled today with my faith in God and the faith I have in myself. (by the way, I’m not a Jesus freak, but I do believe in God, just not the bible…and I’m a Democrat…) I hate not being able to believe in myself. Suffering from lack of self-confidence is a horrible feeling and it shows in so many ways.
But I learned another lesson today too. That I need to just glue my broken pieces together again. That’s life. That’s peeling yourself off of the cement when you get run down. So, I have officially peeled myself off the cement of October 3rd, 2009.
Hoo-rah, hoo-rah.
P.S. If you’re looking for a nice project, help a friend find her pieces and go out and get her some glue. She would like that.
Actually, I'm gunna make a comment on that "losing friends..." part at the top
ReplyDeleteMy mailman died today. He got hit by a car and lost both legs. He was a really nice guy and I liked him a lot, so if you guys would just I don't know, get your mailman a coke or be nice to them, they would appreciate it. That one I could have elaborated on, sorry.