! melodrama. sorry

can i just say im tired, and theres something very specifically stressful about feeling youre teetering on the edge of inadequacy.
i feel like if i do anything remotely related to self-reflection in the next week i will go on a kinderwhore divest-everything-of-all-possible-meaning binge, sex, drugs, rock and maybe ice cream;
im edgy as fuck-all, havent the energy even to whinge about the roaches (and i HATE the roaches! i LOVE whingeing about them!), and am busy thinking of what i dont have, and am not going to have in the foreseeable future, and its driving me fucking nuts, suddenly, the things ive left behind - by not just choice but intention - and now maybe im mistaken in these intents, badly, ohhhhhh, because it seems like what ive eschewed i suddenly want very badly, its stable, curtains, purpose.

i feel ungrateful. these were my decisions, and ive no business whatever regretting because of consequences i planned for - god, the solitude, maybe i didnt realize -

and even with that - considerably less opaque than usual - im still not sure ive put my finger on it, but im getting closer, because there must be an explanation for large-scale panic attacks in the face of respite. but as i said ive used up my quota of introspection for the, er, ever, and i thoroughly plan on lolling in others' solipsism for a while, which sounds, unbelievably, refreshing.