The Bloody Doors Off

I don’t do well standing still, it seems.

Well, I’ve always known I have a hard time relaxing. But it’s worse when there’s nothing.

I was faced with that earlier today. Finally a day off, and no plans. I didn’t even need to do laundry. (I’ve been doing laundry every Sunday to fill time.)

And it hit me. An overwhelming urge. A need to fill the void. I was a slave to the need to make noise.

I packed up the laptop and hit Tequila Bookworm. There was no AC, and no power outlet I could use, which meant limited battery life. But for an hour I wrote. I filled the black hole with voices from the play. And beer. Because it was hot as fuck. I’d prefer to have had coffee, but I wasn’t going to torture myself.

And now again it’s quiet. I’m trying to focus on a show on HBO (The Leftovers) but it isn’t helping. Am I immune to shock, because this show is trying really fucking hard to shock the audience and it’s not registering with me.

I went to see a movie with my friend Laura last night and at one point she jumped out of her seat and yelped. I miss having those moments.

It’s too damned quiet in my head. Which is the opposite problem I had last October. I swear there’s no middle ground in the battle for my psyche.

Shhhh.