| The Devil and Nancy Mae |
[10 Jun 2006|09:44pm] |
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mood |
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music |
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Chopin |
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With great intention did I try to be a keeper of promises to update this goddamn database. But it seems that I'm a better friend than a man of his word. Both are in the same realm of awful that I am disgusted at the reflection that is on this monitor here.
It has been over a month since we got home from our one week vacation in Memphis. I tend to blame a lot of the sadness and pain that I feel due to the atrocity that is my insanity. I had a really great time and met a lot of cool people. The city was beautiful and the places we went to were definitely different than south Florida. But, somehow, I went out of my way to make myself miserable. Different things were escalating to pointless arguments in my brain and once again the nature of self-deprecating pity followed my suffocation.
Don't get me wrong. I had a freakin blast on the trip!
-My love for Elvis came back.
-We ate at "the best breakfast in Memphis" called Juniper's (And I do concur it was the best breakfast I had in Memphis)
-Stayed at the Heartbreak Hotel. Made love to Elvis.
-Visited Graceland. My love for Elvis is staying
-Attended the wedding of two friends, Aaron and Terran that took place at a cemetary
And lots of fun stuff that I don't remember. (That journal should've been updated eh?)
The drive was numbing...But I really shouldn't complain since I only did 10% of the distance to and fro.
The point of this entry is that:
I have this ongoing problem that I've always had ever since I can remember thinking. I know I am a worry rock
And that is my kryptonite.
No matter what I'm doing.
No matter how happy I am.
My over-analysis of everything can cause the happiest time of life....well
full of worry!
Daniel Johnston is casting the devil out of my brain as we speak.
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