Crying for the Weekend

So this is the beginning of the weekend. I’m already depressed. I get in a down funk every weekend, and I hate this. My job is the only thing that defines who I am, and I fear my job. I’ve either forgotten what to do on my own free time or I remember but don’t want to do it; don’t want to relax and reconnect with people.

Yeah, I’ve been seriously withdrawn from society lately; no big news to you, I’m sure. Just can’t get comfortable with anybody else. No friends, therefore no society. So fucking paranoid, it’s sick. I’m leaving incredible parties after 40 minutes. I’m walking out of rooms and going away instead of speaking my mind. I’m standing there for 3 minutes waiting for someone to interrupt their conversation with someone else to see what I want; instead, I should be interjecting, making my business, and letting them continue instead of standing like a conversation leech. So afraid of people.

If you see me out in public, give me a hug or something. I need more of that shit.

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?