Felineopolis

It pains me to be nice to her, but she’s on my team. She’s being overly nice on a certain social network. She made it sound like I sent her this heartfelt text. It wasn’t at all. Despite my feelings towards her, the death of a pet is tough. For that I can have a shred of empathy for her.To text I’m sorry to hear about so and so, isn’t my idea of a heartfelt text. She ignored it, which was fine. She now wants to acknowledge it? Why? I feel like we ended up on the same team because I’m going to learn some kind of lesson. I can be cordial and damn it we are going to have to work together if we want to do all that we can for our team. Her over niceness is making me uncomfortable. I still don’t care for her.

I get overly excited for friends. I just really like to see or hear about them doing things they love.

I pulled out my old iPhone that has all my old music on it. It was a pleasant trip down memory lane. Some memories were unexpected. A couple of songs that came on quickly took me back to some dark times, and some songs came on that pulled me out of those dark times. I don’t know how I survived some nights. Missed veins, swollen nostrils, no sleep, bruises, nothing but the smell of self hatred and evidence of things that happened I had no recollection of. I was always putting together pieces to a puzzle with no idea how the picture was supposed to look like. With one song I’m back to being this dumb fuck high as a kite, bottle in hand, hanging with my loser addict friends with the illusion that I was having fun. With another song I’m transported back to a pathetic puddle of tears and self hatred praying to get clean already.
Music keeps me sane. Music makes me feel. I feel love, I feel hate, I feel pain, I feel joy. I fucking FEEL.
It’s crazy how music can make remember every detail of life events, from smells to how I felt physically and emotionally at that moment in my life. Shit I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast some days.