Sometimes, I just couldn't be bothered. Not to talk (much) but to make monosyllabic replies sounding disinterested and half-dead. Nothing really elicits an interest - games are just to kill time but without the rush or concentration, books only help keep the eyes focused somewhere but I don't read the words, whether I do stuff with or without company makes no difference, and I don't hear any music in my head, not even Eponine singing. Any prospective ideas are met with a 'fuhgeddaboutit'.
Just run through the motions of the day, putting on the different masks (most of the personas thankfully are tacit listeners) for the different environments and get some McDonald's Chocolate Sundae or some form of chocolate if that might help. It's really a good thing that the Prozac and Zoloft I have are actually expired stocks already written off the inventory and meant for destruction. 2 years old some more. Whenever I think about it I rationalize i) it's expired; ii) it'll take a couple of weeks to work, which by the time I might feel differently; iii) it could possibly make me 'slow'. The meds are really something like Discworld dwarven bread in that sense. One look, and you feel the strength to look for alternatives.
But yeah. Not giving a fuck. Not even where this post is going.
2 comments:
blady hell, what's this tok of prozacs and what not?! dun you have better things to do!!??!!
Huh.
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