gloomy sunday

today i feel: ill and unrested.
today i'm hearing: sammy freaking out (not a good name for a band).
today i'm thinking: people should piss off.

I got back from Quincy practically in tears. And I talked to my mum and tried to explain everything, which was pointless. So I took my stuff downstairs, curled up in a little ball, and went to sleep. Because when I'm asleep, nobody bothers me. People leave me alone. I can think or not think or do anything and it's wonderful. Unless my stupid brother comes over to do laundry and drops stuff and breaks things and yells up the stairs because he's too damn lazy to go and talk to my mother like a civilised person. ...Which he did. Hence why I am awake now and in a foul mood.

My da's aunt is still in town. I was told she was going home today. She was once in the army and is incredibly terrifying because of that and the twenty billion cigarettes she has smoked since the age of twelve. She's also a Jehovah's Witness. ...Yeah. I don't know what that means.

My brother is over for dinner. He's doing that whole thing where he tries to sweet-talk me into doing things because he thinks something's wrong and he's the perfect person to talk it out with. Something *is* wrong but I don't want to talk to him about it. I don't want to talk to him at all. I want to stay in bed where it is dark and warm and quiet and no stupid dog comes and licks you in the face every two minutes. MY FACE DOES NOT NEED LICKING. MY FACE IS A LICK-FREE ZONE, DOG! Or, well, selective licking zone. You do not have a Kiri-face-licking license. No. You don't.

I need to shave. That's just kind of irritating.

My mother thinks that the sinus infection/pharyngitis/head cold I aquired sometime this weekend can be fixed with Reiki. For those of you who do not know what Reiki is, we are in good company. I think it's kind of like a laying on of hands to fix general maladies and concerns. Da calls it 'hippie voodoo crap' and that makes me laugh as incorrect and closed-minded as it is. Probably because of his hand gestures. I have nothing against Reiki outside of the fact that my mother talks about it ALL THE FLIPPING TIME and I am inclined to dislike things I hear about from her when I hear about them as often as I do. It might work. I don't know. I just don't want her magic-ing my head. I like my head. And I need it. You know? For stuff?

Nice Boys need to stop liking me. At least when they are Nice Boys who like me who need stable environments and who are Looking With Intent and things like that. I mean, I know some Nice Boys who very well may like me like that and it's okay, because they aren't entirely stable and they understand that, yes, I drink and smoke and swear and don't believe in the infalliability of the pope and That Is Okay. These Nice Boys who aren't like me who do not Hold With Such Nonsense are killing me. Because I can't say, no, I don't like you because they're good kids and I do like them, just not like that. And we're friends and friends are nice, right? I like being friends. I like doing friend things. I like not worrying about you Holding With Such Nonsense because you don't have to because we're just friends and I can be your weird, crazy friend who does do Such Nonsense and you can shake your head and say, 'Oh, Kiri, whatever will become of you aren't I glad I don't have to take you home to meet mother,' and I will say, 'Yes, yes, you should be glad tally-ho and all that rot,' and it will be FINE. But when you like me, Such Nonsense becomes an issue. And then I feel like I ought to change. And I don't want to change because I like me like this most of the time. And weren't we going to be just friends? Whatever happened to that? That was so nice. I sound like a hypocrite and maybe I am a hypocrite but I don't care right now, I can't be who you want me to be so please, leave me alone to my bed where I am the only smelly, hairy puppy. You don't have a Kiri-face-licking license, either.

And I fucking miss Tony. There. I said it. You can make fun of me all you want, I don't care. I miss Tony. Y'all can suck it.

Sundays are gloomy. I want to go back to bed.