She Smell the Daisy

I am getting depressed. 

I don’t have it in me to write lately. I feel useless. I sit in front of the computer and nothing but my damn “feelings” wants to come out. I suppose it doesn’t help Matt doesn’t really encourage me to work. Our conversations pertaining to me working is like,

“Hey Honey could you take me by my parents tonight? I have to work tomorrow.”

“Nah, you’re not working tomorrow. Stay home. Let’s go to the grocery store and buy the ingredients to make a bad ass wedge salad.”


I am absolutely unproductive. I should start running….. ugh. Sounds like a mission.

I have literally been sitting in front of the computer staring at the screen for two hours now. Every now and then I will stop staring to reply to a message on my phone.

Again, this is depressing. 

My sister knows I have been in a shitty writer’s block. I just got off the phone with her, she was helping me brainstorm some fictitious escort encounters for this freelance project I had been handed and was due like, last week. I have a glass full of vodka with a splash of orange juice sweating condensation from sitting there for so long, untouched right beside me.

I am cold.

I am hot.

I want some hard drugs.

The sad thing is I do not even like the taste of alcohol, let alone the effects much. I only drink as much as I do because it is a substitution for the hard stuff…. the stuff I love the most but refrain from doing because after the first initial high, the allure washes away and turmoil sinks in.

God, I love drugs. 

Matt has been texting me throughout the day to check on me, he wants to know if I am okay. I told him I feel isolated and weak. I do not know what is wrong with me this morning. I woke up unbalanced and dreary. He tried to comfort me as much as his time would permit him to. He works in oil and gas thus strict phone policies transpire throughout the chemical plant. He is such a sweet man with such a sweet heart.

I hope to never break it. 

I am extremely lucky to have found a man such as. He has such a beautiful soul. Laughter rings through and through when it is just me and you. He says all the right things. He does all the right things. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. I sometimes create drama within the compounds of him and I.

I sometimes push him so far away to see if he would chase me. Would he hold me close even when I am screaming nonsense? He does all the right things. He does.

He brings to me laughter when I am irritable. God, he is something special. He makes everything feel a million miles away when I am with him. He gives great cuddles without having to ask, and they feel absolutely sincere. Yet, I still want the hard stuff.

I suppose I am an addict. I crave drugs but I am so lazy that if they aren’t readily available I won’t bother seeking them. It’s like craving cake after trolling IG looking at cakes, but actually building up the energy to make a cake? Nah. Too much.


What in da fuck am I even babbling about???!?!?!?!?!?!? Okay, gonna get drunk, cook so Matt has dinner when he gets here, and clean house. I am going to get drunk…….



2 thoughts on “She Smell the Daisy

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