Right, Joey Jeffrey?

I don’t feel depressed. I don’t feel anxious. I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel sad. Maybe it’s heaviness that I’m feeling. Fatigue? Tired defiance? I don’t want to change anything, not because I feel comfortable, and not because I feel uncomfortable. I don’t know why. All I know is it feels heavy in my gut, but my brain doesn’t register, so I don’t feel it emotionally. As if my body is responding to an emotion that I’m not even aware of. I don’t know how I feel. It probably has something to do with the fact that I talked Joey Jeffrey, my tiny sock monkey, and myself both to sleep last night.

And I got up for work this morning and got there late again. And a nice guy started talking to me about how he does art for fun after paying for a 12 oz. Caramel Macchiato and I stood there listening to him talk and waited for him to leave the store until he reminded me that I hadn’t even made his coffee.

And all I know is I’ve been craving lettuce and scarfed down my leftover Panda Express for lunch, wishing a Panda Express existed where I live in Canada, and that I’m asking myself if I had imported those leftovers illegally. All I know is I’m glad for the new shoes I bought that I wore to work today. And that I’m trying to get used to the new keyboard I bought for my tablet. And that there was a weird, young guy earlier today who asked me to show him where the business section of the store was, and then acted super interested in me, and then mentioned his fiancé, and then shook my hand while asking for my name, and then left. All as if he were practicing for an interview or something. Or maybe that wasn’t weird, maybe that was normal. Was it? It was weird, I think.

All I know is, I don’t really want to talk about it. There’s nothing worth saying. Nothing too terribly surprising. Nothing to work out. Just things to accept and things to ignore. And that I don’t really want to make decisions for myself. I want someone else to make decisions for me, but I want to be able to debate about it and veto them. Or maybe just understand the decisions. I want someone that knows me perfectly to make decisions for me, which I guess would be God, and He doesn’t seem to want to do that. I don’t really want to have to figure myself out. I’m kinda tired. I kinda don’t seem to operate well in the set up of this world. And it’s kinda frustrating.

And I have finally for the first time successfully been growing my nails out quite well instead of biting them.

All I know is, abusive people told me I was crazy, and then I became crazy, until my non-abusive self told me I wasn't crazy, and then I wasn't. Or at least not abnormally so.

And I surprisingly hear a baby crying outside my window above the noise of the freeway, and for some reason, I like the sound of that crying baby. Babies can cry, and only idiots judge them for it. Babies don’t have responsibilities. I like the sound of crying babies at a distance. I like the sound that pressing buttons on a keyboard makes. I always did. Are my geckos fighting again? This keyboard rocks, but I hate it...


Right, Joey Jeffrey?