Another fuckin' day. It started out so promising. I met with my therapist over the telephone, I went for a good walk, I practiced. Everything was fine until I tried to write, then the fuckin' computer fucked up like it always does. Everything has to have a fuck-up, that's the main lesson that I've learned in life. It's fuckin' amazing anything happens that's decent. Most of my time is spent dealing with all the fuck-ups that happen in my life.
I'm so fuckin' tired of trying and trying and working and working and nothing ever seems to come out of it. That's all my life is -- nothing but frustration. Nothing happens. Only bad things. I'm now down to seeing my therapist every other week, because it costs too much. I had to say goodbye to my health coach this morning; my time is up, and I have to take a six-month break. As if I'm not isolated enough.
Someday, I tell myself, something really good is going to happen. All this work won't be for nothing and I'll have friends and this fuckin' pandemic will end. Then maybe a miracle will occur and I'll actually get to play my songs in front of people again. I just want to write songs and perform them -- is there anything wrong with that?
Maybe someday the bad luck will end. I'm still waiting.
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