It's such a little thing to weep,
So short a thing to sigh;
And yet by trades
The size of these
We men and women die!

There would have been a time for such a word.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

I'm going to start medication next week. I don't know how it will affect me, what it will do to my feelings of loneliness--invalidate them or leave them unchanged. I hope for invalidation for the sake of my sense of ambition and drive to move forward. Without a way to disconnect from what I've so far perceived as an irreparable and permanent sense of loss I don't see a clear future. I still hold out hope for an impossible outcome, for the story to end a different way. I just can't conceive of the possibility that all of this is not real, or that I'm wrong somehow for feeling the way I do. A year later and still the emotional attachment persists and I find myself completely unable to focus my attention on someone else. Every time I begin, at some point I'm forced to abandon it and start over. I know how wrong I was in what I did in the past, and I've wanted only to make things right all this time. Being completely denied the opportunity has resulted in a huge internal struggle which almost tore me apart several times. I understand why things have to be this way, but not if they have to be this way forever. I will never accept the explanations I've been given, or the assertions that degrade the importance of a relationship that profoundly changed who I am and what I believe in and stand for, what I want out of life, and made me realize how much I'm willing to work on myself for the sake of someone else.

I hope that someday something will change. Right now some form of logic is dictating the way things are, but any type of logic can't endure when it comes to love. I will continue to wait, to live my life as best I can and do what I need to do to be comfortable, and keep hoping that someday will come. I know how unlikely it is, but I see no alternative except to bury my feelings completely and try to love again with half a heart. If I live forever in a private purgatory holding on for a day that never comes then so be it.

I keep writing and writing and never come to any resolution. I don't feel like I've been treated like a human being, and so I don't feel like one anymore. I feel more like an animal, or some kind of nuisance. Nothing brings me any satisfaction, I'm doing things to fix what I can in my life, like my debt, my living situation, but without purpose. I don't know why I'm doing those things, just doing them because of some vague notion that it's what I'm supposed to be doing. What I wouldn't give for some sign that someone cares, that someone wants to see me happy. That would make all the difference for me, but the more time that passes without it, the less I see it. I need someone to help me, and no one will. So I've withdrawn even more. I don't know why, I just can't deal. My life was ripped open and shown to the world, so now I don't trust anyone, I don't talk to anyone, I just want to be left alone. But at the same time I need someone to be close to, and that's not going to happen. I just want to disappear, to vanish and never be seen again. I'm sick of this world, I'm sick of this body, this mind, this defective machinery. I hate it. I don't want things to hurt anymore.

"Beware of the man who works hard to learn something, learns it, and finds himself no wiser than before. He is full of murderous resentment of people who are ignorant without having come by their ignorance the hard way."

For want of a nail the shoe was lost.  
For want of a shoe the horse was lost.  
For want of a horse the rider was lost.  
For want of a rider the battle was lost.  
For want of a battle the kingdom was lost.  
And all for the want of a horseshoe nail.

"All neurosis has its root in vanity."

I'm owed quite a lot of money by Besim at the moment. While we were moving the store I asked him to stop paying me and just log my hours. I think I'm owed about 2 grand by now, but I thought it was the right thing to do. Stock has been way down for awhile now, and two days ago he got about 24 boxes of cigars in. It was a six-thousand dollar order, so by not paying me he got a third more cigars than he would have been able to otherwise. In the middle of winter I wouldn't do something like that except for a week or a few days because it's too hard for him to catch up and he'd wind up too far behind. But right now I can pay my bills with what I'm making working for Jim and I just think of this as a forced savings. Things are getting busier, and during the summer money really isn't a problem, and 2 grand is nothing. I'm not worried about getting the money, and I'm trying to allow him to keep putting it off until Memorial Day so that we can have as many cigars on the shelf as possible. The more stuff there is the more people buy, the more word of mouth will spread that we have a good selection, etc. It's a kind of investment. I was hoping to be able to even put things on my credit card for him, but I haven't been able to do that yet. Like I said, money is never a problem here during the summer, so I'd get that money back, and the better he does the more bills he can pay and get out of debt, and the more the business can succeed.

This week, if we start Wednesday, I've so far worked 47 hours. I started at 6 AM Wednesday morning, worked til 11 PM, then came and opened the store Thursday morning, went to therapy, came back and worked the rest of the day, started at 6 AM Friday, went to Brooklyn to pick up a car for Jim and bring it back, then did his errands, left at 6 and came to close the store, and I opened this morning. I made $430 just working for Jim, and both jobs are starting to compete for my time. Almost every day now Besim calls me to come in at some point. I'm scheduled for 30 hours at the store, but I probably put in 35 or more. With Jim I, for the most part, work from Tuesday morning til Wednesday night, and 5 or 6 hours on Friday. The first two days I get paid for about 24 hours. He doesn't pay me to sleep even though we stay in Brooklyn, but it's not that big a deal because for the most part the hours I get paid for are sitting around reading a book or hanging out with him or the people who work in the shop. So I get about 60-70 hours a week, and I'm working 7 days a week now. That's going to translate into a lot of money, and I just have to see how long I can keep it up. There are a couple of days where I don't have to get up super early, so I should be able to catch up on sleep if I miss out because of the long days.

I don't know how long it's going to be before I can get a place of my own. I'm going to start looking at the end of this month, beginning of next, when it'll be a more realistic possibility. I'm floundering at home, and my anxiety is tough to deal with. I feel like someone is always looking over my shoulder and that I'm never doing enough or making enough progress. I've faltered in new routines several times, and part of that is just living with other people and feeling like if I don't spend time with them that I'm not doing the right thing. I really need my own place. I wind up not spending time with anyone but not working on my art or exercising, then when I'm motivated, the guilt of that unspent time keeps me from those things.

I'm trying to figure out with my psychologist how to tackle this problem, which has been an issue of mine for as long as I can remember. It was more easily dealt with in college because I had deadlines, and if I could somehow make them for myself then I'd be able to force myself to work a lot more. I think the quote I put at the top is a good starting point. I've been told for the longest time about my potential, and I avoid having to approach the subject of exhibiting my work by not having enough done. The reason I subconsciously sabotage myself and avoid these things is that I cherish the fact that I've never been put down, never had a reality check about my work. I don't think that much of it in my own mind. In reality I'm very humble about my abilities in any subject, and it's hard for me to compare myself to others without feeling insecure. I can be a great artist in my own mind the way things are, but the idea of trying to do it in practice is scary. What if I fail? What if no one likes what I'm doing or thinks it's any good?

I have to find an answer for this problem sooner rather than later. I'm afraid of having an empty life.