that said, fuck that part of me. this is my journal. and my journal has gotten me through a lot. just venting and getting down what i think is important. it's like that when you spend 10 hours a day alone in a two bedroom apartment. the lack of human interaction makes me need to vent here. or wherever my journal is at the time. i can't just talk about things conversationally so they sit and fester until they come out with the whine.
and i'm not blaming anyone for my being alone. i don't leave the house, meeting people is hard. but having a journal makes up for that in a way. i can release everything that i'm bottling up. and with this lj i have the bonus of people being able to comment. that is cool.
what i am feeling is not. i want to hurt. i want the walls of the hospital. i want someone watching over me because i don't think i'm qualified. and i know it's all a med thing, i do. but that doesn't make it any easier.
my plot for today is to drug myself to sleep so i don't have to deal. not the best way of doiing things, but if i hurt myself again, i think doc will explode and being asleep is the only way to make sure i don't do something stupid again.
oh! i got this (trash picked) really large matted and framed (with glass) black and white photo poster of this nearly naked man in the sand. i'm keeping it because, well, it's a frame and i always need frames. but i have got to get rid of the man in the sand. it's like something the queer eye boys would have left behind.
i don't know if i mentioned that in the same pick i got this really big assemblage piece, signed and framed. i have to paint the frame because it's gold toned. but i have it hung in the living room because it is just so cool.
i wish i haad the stomach for dumpster diving. i'm really lucky to have S, who will do all the dirty work. i don't have the patience or cool to go through a dumpster. and i don't have the skill to do it well. like the time three small boxes of antique christmas ornaments were found, how did he not break those? skill and talent. and he never seems to get stuff on hiimself. he washes his hands, but he never smells or has some funny jelly stuff on his pants. i'm impressed by this.
ooh i just found a box with more stuff for book altering. then i found a box of jewelry that isn't listed for sale anywhere. so i guess when i wake up i'll take pictures of those and then take on the three hour (it's been the average) tour of trying to find the page template i need and . . . oh, wait this one will be easy. i can get the page template from an item i have up there, all i have to do is revise an item. okay. last night was this epic battle to get the cam page changed with two lines of code. in looking at the code, i was reminded that i used a Front Page template for the tables on the new site, jesus, what a mess.
i'm just going to sit here and type until i can't see the letters on the screen anymore.
i'm spraypainting a mint tin to make a moon shrine out of it. i am reminded i only like spraypainting big things, but the color is dreamy so it is totally worth it.
there is so much to explore in this workroom. every box and tin and coffee can has something in it. i found a tin with enough blue beads to make a really cool lariat necklace. then i found a speed racer shrine i'd started. it looks really good. i need the wheels off of a hotwheels car to finish it. it's meant to be a shrine you can use, therefore it is only decorated on the lid and inside the lid. then the user can put stuff in it. usable pocket shrines, i amaze myself. actually, i just don't know what else to put in the shrine to speed racer.
i need to find or make (most likely make) a quarter moon for the lid. or maybe i'll just spell out "luna" on the lid with stickers. maybe both.
i'm finally starting to feel the effects of the two xanax i took to put me to sleep. the coffee i had earlier counteracted the sleepiness i should have felt from the extra seroquel i accidentally took this morning. oy. too many pills.