Couldn’t get myself out of bed, but in the end managed to leave the house. Dressed up for work. Except I didn’t go to work. I went for a long brekkie in some small place in town.
Never been there before. The two guys in the cafe are super nice and I am fucking crying again. I am wearing my sunglasses but my tears keep dropping out of the frame.
Not sure if they noticed. Didn’t really care.
I don’t really have a clue why I am crying. I keep on telling myself what a wonderful, cool life I have.
One of my favourites is: i have two healthy legs, arms and head and all is working. I am not sick – we’ll not as in physically sick. There are people with cancer or in a wheelchair. Toughen up you pussy.
Sort of along those lines.
Nobody at work or anywhere else for that matter has a clue. People look at you and you keep on pretending to be the successful guy.