Dog Vomit

I feel so strange right now. I feel like I'm struggling against something right now. Like I'm fighting for every breath that I can take. Like my mouth is gagged and I can’t even get a single syllable out against the cloth that makes it so hard to breath. So melodramatic. Every illustration I can think of to describe this feeling is so cliché that I can’t even bear to talk about it. I don’t know what to do with this; believe me, if I could I would blame it on hormones, but it’s the wrong time of the month for that.

I don’t want to be told that it will get better or that I’ll feel better tomorrow. I don’t want it to be alright, I don’t want it to go away – I want to know why I feel like this. I want to know what’s going on with me, in my head, in my soul. Soul is so…. Not the best word that I'm looking for. Blah. I can’t even write well. Guess that’s one thing that I lost when I graduated from SPU. So much for being highly educated

. I feel so bitter and cynical right now. I want to expose everyone’s faults, slap the smile off of their faces and watch them come down to my level. Then maybe they would understand what’s going on. Heck, I don’t even know what’s going on, why should they know? I'm not making much sense right now, but that’s how I feel right now – that I can’t make sense, that everything is all jumbled up and a huge mess. Sort of like stepping in dog vomit – just makes you sour all day long and even though you got it all off you can still smell it or get a whiff it every once in a while. I feel like my life is dog vomit, or at least that my life stepped in dog vomit. I'm not sure which is worse, but whatever. Dog vomit.