online shopping for people

i don’t have a picture for today. i might draw after i post this, but no picture yet today. or yesterday or the day before.

i totally meant to do one yesterday. i was going to take an element from one of my random drawings and elaborate on it…or give it another–a different life of it’s own?

i even exercised and ate lunch and did without coffee (i am trying to take better care of myself) but then i was goofing off on facebook. (why why why?) and fb stalked a skateboard punk i had a fling with before i moved from kentucky to wisconsin in 2002. it wasn’t even a full-fledged fling. just messing around. he actually refused to have sex with me.
for some reason or another, i looked him up.
and he’s all married to a beautiful woman and expecting his first kid. they’re being all cuddly and posing by their pool in their beautiful backyard.

and i collapsed.

i felt like a fucking failure. what is wrong with me? have i fucked up my entire life?
i totally spiraled.

and then i went on okcupid.

i don’t really believe in internet dating–or, online shopping for people as i prefer to call it. i think you should meet in person and have all the sparks & fireworks…but desperate times, people. desperate times.

whenever i feel desperate enough to do this, i fill out my profile as honestly and openly as possible to scare off the guys looking for a woman who shaves her armpits and does the make-up & heels thing. it’s not me, babe. i let them know i’m just looking for conversation…but i still get the creepers saying, “hey pretty” and “you’re so sexy.”

really??

anyhoo. usually i delete my profile as soon as men start messaging me, but i stuck with it. it occurs to me that–if nothing else–it might be good for my art & writing. i do better with distractions. and, seriously, good stories here, y’all. good stories.

so i spent all last night answering profile questions and alienating the “hey pretty” men.

tonight i am actually going out of my house…to a party…with people.
what?
yes. i am.

but tomorrow is a new year & i will have new stories & new art.

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i can’t play the game

the internet game. i can’t do it. i can’t do facebook. i can’t network. i am terrible at being anything but sincere. and i am completely crushed when my sincerity is not returned in kind. i take people at face value…so if they are disingenuous, i feel like it is a personal attack.

i can’t play the game.

i should be a bronte sister hidden away on the moors. dreaming my silly dreams and never being allowed to interact with others. then i can keep my hopes intact. i could just send my stories & art out in the post and hear back in six weeks as to whether my stories and art will make it to publication.

i can’t do the internet.

i hate how fake i sound when i post about my fucking chickens when i just want to twist their heads off because i have control issues, and chickens are just uncontrollable…unless they are nuggets. i hate how fake i sound when i post about something cute my kids did or my garden when i feel like i am falling apart. when i feel like i am the worst mom ever. when i feel like it is all a sham. why am i even here? what is the point? i just want to pack my bags and disappear.

i can’t do this anymore.

i wonder if anyone else feels like this? that the world has become one stupid photo op? one stupid witty quip. one stupid tweet. one stupid selfie. one stupid picture of what isn’t falling apart in your life. just don’t look too close at that picture and everything will be fine.

or am i truly alone.

on the moors.

with my dreams whipping away in the wind.