I’ve got a couple of things (not human things) that I need to touch, I need to handle…with my hands…but the thought of touching them is making me sick. The thought crosses my mind that if I touch these things I’m basically on the same level as a common whore. My dilemma unfortunate as it is, is that I will have no choice but to touch them. I’m prolonging it as much as possible….the bad things is that currently there are two of these things, in different rooms, one right in front of me reminding me that I am basically a piece of shit, the other thing is in a different room, a room I also spend time in…so yeah, no escaping the reminders….sigh***
I’m also waging a little battle with myself, a battle of wits, or a battle of something else….I have to overcome these feelings….I know I am not a piece of shit, I know that I shouldn’t allow how others view me…I’ll come through this, I always do….but dammit I am so tempted to set this shit on fire….but then that would destroy my desk (which is already falling apart as it is) and possibly burn the house down…but then at least we would be warm.
And I’m not a whore….okay I’ll stop with this thought…I can only go downhill with the rest of the thought that was coming with this…
…and when it rains it pours….sigh***I guess my day is not over yet…headed out…I’m cold, tired and frustrated….