I really wanted to finish my little Crush series with a big bang but the desire to write out the entire story evaporated along with all non-essential motivations. Crippling depression and socially stunting anxiety strike me down several times a year. This sickness seemingly becomes more frequent with every ring added to the tree…and the duration has expanded from days to weeks to months. I figure eventually I’ll have entire years spent within the comforting yet claustrophobic confines of my house until eventually I lose my job, and with that will come the loss of the few material things that still bring me temporary joy…like drugs, books, hand-puppets of woodland creatures, and the occasional bag of kettle-cooked potato chips. In addition to the lack of funds, I would also lose a preferred shipping method thereby making it damn near impossible to fulfill all the items on my ever-expanding and relentless Amazon wish list, now approximately 107 items long, 105 of which are non-fiction books. So much useless shit to learn!
So in short I need to at least keep my head together long enough to feed and shelter my dog, and have a home address where I can have all of my hopes and desires delivered in bubble-wrapped envelopes or delightful brown boxes with my favorite logo emblazoned on the side. I even ordered shampoo last week because I didn’t feel like leaving my house. Amazon Prime is probably one of the best investments of my life. On a side note I encourage anyone reading this to watch a Prime show called Fleabag. It’s fantastic.
I suppose I am starting to brush off the most recent bout of despondency and despair since I put forth the effort of updating my computer so I could at the very least summarize the story of my high school crush, and the years of death and debauchery that followed. I’m not trying to be dramatic. There really is death and unprotected fornication in this story. Unfortunately I blew my load writing about why I haven’t been writing. Sorry…Cliff Notes to follow soon.