And I will let you in
I'll close the gate behind your horse
And carnage will begin, boy
Close the gate behind your horse
And carnage will begin.
That is the last line of a poem by Anne Elliott called, "Trojan Love Poems" and Everytime I get angry it runs through my mind. I can hear this cold, steely voice reciting that over and over, so it must mean I'm angry. I think I've lost touch with what emotions I had/have. I can't tell anything anymore... the only way I can tell what is on the inside is by what comes out on the outside.
What if I'm pregnant and these are mood swings? That would certainly explain the craving for pickles... but I really doubt that I am. Actually I'm pretty positive that I'm not. But still. Fuck. Now I'm worried. Why does everyone think that's the case Everytime something goes wrong in my life? I've never been pregnant before.
I don't want to think about that. Now I'm all tense. I'm not gonna be able to sleep. Maybe I should re-acquaint myself with Mr. Neurontin tonight and then I'll be able to. I don't see how they expect me to take that stuff and be able to drive and remain on an even keel. I'm getting headaches again. I have 25 hours worth of work to do in the next 48. I think I'm gonna show my true good-for-nothingness and cheat. I'm feeling very angry and bitter right now.
And again: Why do people make promises when they know they won't keep them? I don't know what I can or can't do, so I hardly ever make promises. My life consists of maybes, that way no one is ever let down. (Everyone knows I am the queen of flakes). Or maybe not. Maybe the image of myself is so fucked up that I know nothing. Everything I have been told, that everyone else is convinced of, is never congruent to the way I see everything. Am I warped or are they?
I've watched too much of SLC Punk and now I feel weird. That movie always manages to piss me off. But I still watch it.