I’m finding it really difficult getting out of bed at the moment. I’m actually writing this from my bed — laying down, with 3 pillows propping up my head, while still in my bra and pants. Like if the Elephant Man was sexy (but also a woman. Also, the Elephant Man was sexy. It’s what’s on the inside that counts, unless you have a thing for the Elephant Man specifically — then it’s also what’s on the outside. Also, I think being so smart and talented is also sexy in it’s own way — he was also a sharp dresser and could create unimaginable beauty with nothing but a few hundred matchsticks and some glue).
The point is, I’m in my bed a lot these days. I’m sad — overwhelmingly so. I’ve had a bad week. No wait, I’ve had a bad month. No wait, I’ve had a bad year. No — wait. I’ve had a bad couple of years. NO, WAIT. IVE HAD A KINDA SHIT TIME GENERALLY MY WHOLE LIFE.
No. Wait. It’s not so bad. I’m just hurting at the moment. I’m being irrational, and I know it. The thing is though, you can have mental clarity about a situation, knowing that it’s going to pass, and still feel like the world is ending. What I know, and how I feel are two completely different things, and I’m somewhere between them — running backwards and forwards. Well, not running — I’m in bed. I’m always in bed.
I’m a bit like Grandpa Joe from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (but a woman, and much hotter than Grandpa Joe. Although, Grandpa Joe wasn’t not hot — he was kind, mischievous, stood up for Charlie at the end and was a pretty good dancer, all things considered).
Often, chocolate is the one thing that gets me out of bed, eventually. Chocolate lives at the shop, and you have to go to the shop to get it. Chocolate is amazing. I love it. My favourite is Tony Chocalonely because it tastes great, has an unusual segment structure, a classic style paper and foil packaging which reminds me of Wonka Bars and is also ethically produced! I almost never buy it though, because it’s expensive, instead going for unethical chocolate. God, I’m such a piece of shit. Really, a terrible person. How can I eat chocolate knowing that child slaves are used in it’s production? I’m actually a fucking monster. I’m like the creature from The Creature from the Black Lagoon (except a woman, and much much hotter. Although, to be honest with you — The Creature from the Black Lagoon is pretty hot, despite being from an actual Black Lagoon. He’s so hot in fact, that a Mexican film director recently made a 2 hour fish-fuck fantasy about him — which I enjoyed).
Maybe I should get out of bed now. I’ll go to the shop, buy some chocolate, head back home, get back into bed & watch an old film on my laptop. A perfect day.
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