Smorgaspudge and Potpourblah

I am a mess. A gross oozing mess. I feel like shit. I would say I done sunk if it werent for this nagging sinking feeling. Can't help but think things (oh you, vague, communal noun, "things." What things? When things? Which things? AH!) I feel like I am in high school again, all except for my waistline.

Same sensitivity and uncertainty and destructiveness. What the F is my problem? It's about to cause me a lot more, whatever it is. I can feel it. I feel anxious and doomed all the time. I am eating myself from the inside out. It isn't fun, it's totally unnatural, it is hard work, it hurts pretty bad and it WILL leave me with nothing in the end. Yet I am powerless to stop it. I know I am doing it, I tell myself to stop and that seems to actually encourage it.

I mean, really, WHAT THE F?

And to think, I was going to do a movie review blog. I had so many things to say. Clever, insightful thoughts. Well, really just pointing out the obvious and using big words but it made me feel like I was special.

But my mood ate it. And now that I mention it, all that critiquing and all that Eva guts just wasnt a good combination. My mood has got indigestion.