don't expect things getting better anymore.started (and partly even finished) some good work the last weeks. wrote some songs, fixed some ideas, smoked less than half the amount as usual, spent the nights working having coffee and sometimes even tea, never more than two drinks a day (except last thursday - no idea what happened...), am trying hard and successful not to think ugly thoughts about all these assholes out there, having walks for hours and hours, ... i could continue if i weren't getting sicker then.
so, what has happened?
since yesterday i know that i have more time in december than i'ld wish to have. and for some nasty reason, of course.
not good. but that bad? - NO.
five and a half tons of dry walls and cement were delivered this morning and we had to carry them up to the first floor and through a long long corridor. and we had to do this within little time. it worked.
was not easy. but that exhausting? -NO.
i am waiting for money i should have been given on saturday. i am waiting desperately. but my bank statement tells no good stories. (if it was a novel, i'ld say: 'written well, hard to be read'.)
and THAT really is not good anyway.
but that hard? - NO.
but with not one f§§§ing fag left, no drinks, a rancid rest of dry bread representing the master piece of your stocks besides a tiny bit of coffee, an evening with nothing left to do at home (but a rehearsal of a friend's band instead), and the definite feeling of very personal things still left undone ( - knowing about the impossibility of changing this in a state like this - ), i think screwing out was a very reasonable reaction.
but what is really making me nervous: I STILL AM VERY CALM.
V E R Y C A L M .
S O C A L M .
C A L M .