Hm. Well, today's the day I decide what I'll be doing tomorrow. I'm still thinking I'm gonna try to kill myself, and still confident that I'm gonna fail. This is all just exposé of my mindset, which I'm only doing because I'm assuming I'll fail, even while totally planning to do it. This is laughing at myself, exposing my suicides as a fraud. Having cried wolf so many times before, I'm reduced to painting a picture of the dang wolf. And by doing this, presumably I'll never do it again.

My mind goes all fuzzy and cloudy on this precipice. It's funny how every time I get to this point, the future starts looking so bright, that I really can do anything, but it's just feeling, it's wisps of emotion. I've been here enough times to know that.

It's a beautiful day, just the day I was waiting for, that's why today and not yesterday, but beautiful days put me in a good mood and make me think the future is filled with beautiful days like this. But this is San Francisco, and that is so not true. I've been here long enough to know that.

I'm listening to Modest Mouse. I have This is a Long Drive for Someone Who Has Nothing to Think About, Good News for People Who Love Bad News, The Lonesome Crowded West, The Moon & Antarctica, and Building Nothing Out of Something on shuffle play. It makes me think of all the music I want to listen to, all the music that makes me feel and that I can relate to, but really it's a reminder that I'm not playing anymore and I'll never be a part of a group or a scene anymore.

Starting tomorrow, I will do all those things I said I would do. I'll give notice on my apartment and start getting ready to leave right away. I won't be thinking I'll leave at the end of the month, I'll leave for New Jersey just as soon as I'm ready. As soon as I've gotten rid of all the stuff I want to, and arranged to ship all the stuff I don't want to get rid of.

I don't know what I'll do once I get to New Jersey, I'll cross that bridge, not jump off of it, when I get to it. Maybe I'll try to "connect". Connect, George. Having done something with all my possessions, it might be that much easier to head to a monastery.

But before any of that happens, I have to once more give suicide the ol' college try. God, I love that expression, it's so stupid and funny and naive and condescending.

I have to once more try to see if anything I've been has been anything. If it meant anything. If it's been at all real. God, what a betrayal it will be if I fail. Has anything I've been writing meant anything? What happens to it if I fail this time?

*sigh*

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