Kevin Smith Has Speaking Parts

It's all. Broken. In my head.

Everything.

Is slanted.

Uncultured.

Faux-etry.

I live in the imposter syndrome.

A year ago I was grieving. If in another year I have another reason to be grieving I don't know what I will do with myself.

I bought my first laptop. With my own money. I'm writing on things I got with my own borrowed money.

I now own 3 self-help journals. One that explores growth over 5 years, one that explores growth over a single year, and one that explores where I am now. Where am I now? Where am I? Am I? Are we as people forever in progress? It feels so singular. It feels so unique to who I am in a way that isn't pleasant. It's a novelty. Being unfinished. I'm told that's how everyone feels. Everyone sees what others are and thinks someone else has it more figured out. Someone else.

I'm watching Catch and Release and I want to be the Juliette Lewis but I know I'm a Jennifer Gardner- without the hot guy to fall back on after finding out my dead fiance was a cheater. What is the point of sticking your fist in your mouth? I must not be the greatest at sex. I know I'm not. Before analyzing that I don't know why someone would want to possess that talent.

My self-help journal about the present asked me to list 5 things that always, immediately, make me smile. I couldn't think of anything. I ran through the obvious- Myex, his daughter, Mexican martinis, my cat, my best friends. foods, TV, movies. There was nothing. I can think of a few things that would make me immediately cry, though, and I think that's why we have a problem. I think that's why we had problems. I think that's my problem. I want to be the Juliette Lewis. Blonde and happy. Free and spiritual. The person someone escapes to instead of from.

If in a year and 3 journals I can't find something new, I can't be closer to what I want, I don't know what I'll do.

This laptop is smaller. I should have done better research. Everything seems smaller on this side.

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