Staring At The Ground

It’s frustrating knowing you need to just completely break down, hyperventilate and bawl your eyes out like there’s no flippin’ tomorrow, and yet you just can’t. Again, I refer to “you”, but I really just mean myself.

Not much in the last week has changed, other than my willingness to burst into tears being constantly suppressed my own lack of being able to express emotions. Other highlights include walking along at a slower than normal speed, staring at the ground with the same fixed expression of stoicism on my face. I assume, anyway. I can’t see my own face normally.

Somewhere in the future quagmire of time, I believe they say we’ll be able to look back on this and laugh. There’s always a future and nothing’s over, stuck or trapped in an endless routine forever. Woo, optimism and such. Let’s be optimistic. Let’s type out positive sounding words whilst maintaining a facial expression with all the enthusiasm of a courgette facing a spiralizer. Let’s say “things will get much better” and “one day, this won’t matter any more” while we ignore the internal screaming that can’t manifest itself on the outside.

I’ve got a new frustration to add to the list. After Googling the correct spelling of the term, it pains me that I have to use a Z in the word “spiralizer” despite in being against every fibre of my grasp of the English language.

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Have you ever trespassed in a supermarket? Neither have I, but these guys make it sound like a right riot. Noisy screeching and fast-paced guitar riffs are always a winner. Then again, I say that with a perception on the world that’s been straying from normality for a long time. I don’t mean that in the way that most people do. Most people claim to be not normal because they’re oh so random and they wear odd socks or something. I feel non-human and like my perception is clouded by crippling self-doubt and hatred and such.

Perhaps to put a bit of zest into my existence, committing some kind of breaking and entering crime on an originally German retail chain could be the way to go. At the very least, I could probably get away (assuming I could probably get away) with several bags of potatoes, some off-brand wine, three tennis rackets and a deck chair without causing too much of a financial burden on the company. However, I’m not sure they actually stock magical remedies for depression or canned purposes in life, which is probably what I need more.

Fat White Family – Breaking Into Aldi