damik's Diaryland Diary

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Sometimes you get lost in the fog

I'm becoming better at seeing it comming on. I know that I have a problem with the winter. It's like when I lived one the coast, and I could see the fog comming in, but there's nothing I could do about it. Sometimes it strikes like lightening and sometimes depression is the fog rolling in, or the little tickle in the back of your throught telling you your going to get a cold.
I start by thinking of how poiintless it all is, how nothing ever changes and it will never be better. I hate my drab, dark, boring little apartment. (The same one I just loved a week ago) Energy drains out of me. I don't want to fuck with these poems, I got two people responding to the plea for input and I can't bring myself to thank them, instead, I bitch that I didn't get more. I just want to say fuck the 1,000 dollar prize, fuck book, fuck the dream. I just want to give up. I want to quit everything I'm not obligated to do and find excuses for the things I am obligated to do. I don't want to write in this diary because there is nothing I haven't said. I'm a failure at life and it's never going to change.
I have a little picture of my dad and I at my graduation, it's in a little cube. I want to huck it acrossed the room. That was the last milestone in my life. And he was taking bets if I was going to make it there.
There is really nothing else to work towards. Highschool graduation is only supposed to be a stop along the track, but that's where my train de-railed. That was it for me. All the other milestones I've imagined are just hollow dreams, are all empty wishes. Are all worthless.
Next time I walk by the poetry section of Barns and Nobel, next time I watch a special were some young actor says they got the part with no experence, next time I see a wedding dress or get a catalog from the college in the mail, I'm going to cry. Somewhere along the lines I learned that dreams are worth it, I don't remember why.

10:08 p.m. - 09-03-02
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