soundproof: postscript

July 24, 2012

snide joking aside, this is making me fucking unhappy. Like I want-to-slash-my-wrists-I-am-so-fucking-frustrated-and-full-of-despair-and-anger unhappy.

I am unhappy and I have not produced a single fucking thing in the past few weeks because every time I try: cars, planes, rain, heavy footsteps on the stairs, someone decides to take a shower, doors slam, birds sing, small children bellow, lawnmowers roar, the window cracks, my mic decides to start crackling. And I have to stop recording every time, and then I sit there feeling like shit and despair and awful and I want to go drown in cyanide. And I want to go beat my head against something until my brains fall out and I bleed everywhere for a bit because it would make a nice change.

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

It’s that or cry, and if I start crying I may as well just go to fucking sleep already. I’m not a cutter; I’ve never been a cutter, but things like this make me want to hurt myself.

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