errrrrrrrr

I wrote this blog at the beginning of the month:

I think I feel my brain leaking out of my ears. Everyday synapses slowly flicker out, interests dull to a putty grey, appetites are non-existent, and my body proves incapable of movement beyond the conveyor belt that takes me from one pre-determined destination to the next.
I've been told to just let this happen, I need to let life control me right now, I need to be a passenger, I will come back from the dead at some point. I agreed, but I'm fighting it with the vigor of a sedated sufferer of Tourette's. I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS ANYMORE!

I spent my summer living my life, figuring shit out and opening myself to new people, thoughts and experiences. I drank a lot. I went out a lot. I just did. Because I wanted to, I needed to. I let it all come to me.
But it's happening again, things are throwing me for a tailspin, I thought I had me all figured out and my path was set--but it's not. I'm not good at just hanging out all the time; watching movies, living in my dirty laundry, ignoring obligations and chores and becoming, as my friend Kristen says, an amoeba face. I'm not good at that. I need to work and learn, I need to make art, I need to produce, I need to organize, I need to not just EXIST. Fuck.

The whole point is to always question and learn, I get it. I know that. But seriously, when can I stop watching Six Feet Under back to back? Or rather, can I make it my job to watch Six Feet Under back to back? You were all right, I love the show. It's my lifeblood right now, it's my mission to watch all 6 (or however many seasons) by next month. Or maybe April. Whatever. It's my mission to get this done because I'm really good at it.
I have cried all my tears out and am now an apathetic walking zombie, with music playing in my head, and an incredible desire to smoke a cigarette

Now:

I just typed a really long update to this post but my computer shit the bed and I lost everything.

I'll write something later.