a very mundane monday

I’m at work right now and technically I should be working but my job is just to make sure everything runs smoothly and nothing is running because there are no customers and no orders and no vendors that need to be called and nobody that needs to get paid so instead I’m writing this. Yesterday instead of doing anything productive I submitted to an online literary mag and started a new song in Ableton Live that I probably won’t finish (but maybe I will because I finally got Necter and so my vocals will sound passably decent). The music in here is too upbeat but if I change it my coworker will say it’s “not really the restaurant’s vibe” (although he wouldn’t say this because he doesn’t use the word vibe, English isn’t his first language and I think this slang term is slightly out of his grasp of understanding at the moment). Everything has been very hazy lately and the days just kind of blend into one another. Even when events happen they don’t really happen. Two nights ago I saw a friend play a show at Banc but I was too high and I had to leave and it all felt really unreal. I like writing down these feelings because they ground them more in reality. Someone told me everything was in our souls and not really perceivable in the real world and it really freaked me out. I don’t really think things are objectively real either but thinking about it too hard makes me feel sick. There are two books I need to have read by tomorrow and Wednesday but instead I’ve been devouring The Shards by Bret Easton Ellis which is very unlike me. Normally I hate Bret but this is working on me in unexpected ways. Maybe it’s more earnest than other things. I really believe him now. All the detachment is revealed to be phony as usual but he really cares about it and that makes me care about him too. My hands won’t stop shaking and I don’t really know why. I think I’m permanently in a heightened state of anxiety nowadays. Too much parapolitics and too much caffeine and not enough sleep. The normal things that I’d like to be more special than they are. That’s the story of my life probably: wanting everything to be more meaningful than it actually is. Assigning them meaning just makes them frightening, though. A lose-lose situation. All of my friends are leaving the city and I’m very alone all of a sudden. Technically there are bigger social circles I’m a part of but the people I spend all my personal time with, who really love me, are disappearing one by one and I guess I haven’t worked out how I feel about that yet. I wish I did something interesting last week so I could talk about it but I didn’t. My stomach hurts all the time. Summer is coming but it feels weird this year. I guess I’m used to living on the beach all summer in that weird liminal space between employee and guest and now I’m somewhere with no water and no sun. Strange. The point of writing all this down was no point except to put it somewhere. I should probably start doing my job now.