So many of my frustrations are because I need to know why.

 What does depression look like? Guilt and repeating poor choices. Letting imperfection reign victorious. Imperfection is the very truth; perfection is a longing only. Dirty feet. Not wanting to sweep though the floor is crumby again. Pissing K off because finishing stuff is anathema to me. The dregs.

 Dear Chloe:

The Truth. It's color in free form. Laughter. Always laughter. Cold carbonation. Songs, deep sorrowful and dreamy. La lune. Les chats. Italiano. Chocolate. Men with sleepy eyes.

 When night sneaks up on me and doesn't drag out the dusk's fading, that's merciful.

 Just one day as a child when you were conscious, and suddenly aware there were shows you liked, that you were an entity, that you had a history, a past. You had memories, thoughts and feelings you could retain; they wouldn't drift out of your reach any longer. You had permanence. It felt like eternity but you were only 3. Each 12 months of your existence actually millennia.

 Late start to day. Got heavy bag of household dirty linens out of room. Cat was out for a while, and I let her in. T talked to me last night about court matters. Wish I could explain my freeze responses better. Especially when I'm not even aware I'm doing it till afterwards. It's muzzy out. Front door open, 1 curtain drawn. Need to eat more, but my leftover carne asada fries just ain't doin' it.  Ignoring A is brutal, but for my psyche I've pulled it off. 

 K put a bunch of the broken down boxes outside. It's warm, but I have the front door open for my sanity. The strip is overgrown; the small barbecue is in front of it after the sea of oversized, wrecked boxes. The ice in my hibiscus tea is gone. What a delight, to have hibiscus tea, though.

I do not want to be alone/I have to. 

K's friend stopped by to pick up the boxes K had out. I startled her through the screen door saying hi.