about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Seeking a definitive diagnosis.

What the hell is wrong with me?

My face hurts. My eyes are red and puffy. My nose runs like a leaking tap. My head has a dull ache. All these point to sinusitis and not enough sleep.

But I'm sure there's something else not on that diagnosis.

My self-control is shot. I'm in a lousy mood. On the road I pick fights with trucks and buses. I am irritable and very cranky. I am amazed by how quickly I can push people away from me. All I can do is sit back and watch idly by as another me acts of its own accord and ransacks everything I built up. I try to find explanations but all I can do is study this other self.

Maybe I'm just in a selfish phase right now. Today, I'm not the listening JM people know. I'm not the one who's generous with time or things. I want things. I want someone to listen for once. I want someone to care. I couldn't care less what your beef is, what your standing is with your previous lovers, what newfangled credit card you have to sell me over the phone. I just don't give a damn. I feel miserable and I want to stew in it. I want to lock myself in my room and play Sugar Free on maximum volume, while singing my heart out and not caring if I wake up and piss off the neighbors.

When will the study end? When will there ever be any acceptable explanations? Is this some sort of condition? Can I even be "treated?"

I now know why Rubik's cubes never appealed to me. I'm already too big of a puzzle to solve by myself.

Unfortunately people don't have the time or patience to help me along.

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