My counsellor tells me I need to not think so much about my “problems” and finding “solutions” to them. It’s fine for me to be intellectual, she says, but I just need to curb the amount that I think obsessively about my perceived struggles.
My counsellor also tells me I need to spend some time on pampering myself. I feel like my whole existence is that.
I went to the Vancouver Art Gallery today. Saw the Picasso exhibit. I had a bunch of thoughts. But nothing i want to write about. I know I am going to be famous eventually, i guess that’s all.
Been wanting to smoke bad lately.
Been running everyday, still. It’s a habit now.
My PowerBook is a fucking piece of shit. I hate it’s treachorous guts, the fucking defunct, overpriced bitch ass computer.
I’m stressed. I am going for a run. Running feels like mild opiates by about the ten minute mark.
Leave a Reply