!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> Jen's Dirty Thirties

inspite of all this rage, he's still just a squirrel in his cage?

2006-03-05 / 1:49 a.m.
i was listening to someone talk the other day, and he described his feelings like being in a "squirrel cage". i fumed. i've heard others use this analogy before, and i had to utilize all my bodily energy to hold back from blurting out:
"IT'S NOT A FUCKING SQUIRREL CAGE, YOU MEAN HAMSTER WHEEL...HAMSTER WHEEL. IF YOU MEAN THAT YOU FEEL CAGED, THEN PERHAPS YOU ARE A RAT, GORILLA, OR CANARY, BUT YOU ARE NOT A FUCKING SQUIRREL."

now, i suppose that some squirrels DO live in cages, but i haven't seen one yet. maybe in pueblo, colorado there is some weird animal testing lab that has an array of squirrels in cages, and perhaps the critters are angry-(as they should be) and shaking the bars of their little cages. the only animals that i've seen run around on a wheel are hamsters, mice, rats, gerbils, and certain birds, but no squirrels.

i shouldn't be so hard on others. i know how it feels to be passionate about something and lack the ability to articulate myself. i do it on a regular basis. i have misused words, i have misspelled words, and i have bastardized most art forms trying to express myself.

lately i've been really, really, depressed. today has been better, but this week was incredibly weepy for me. i've been homicidal, suicidal, and any other cidal that exists. friday night i was at a party and i wanted to fight. i'm not a fighter, i'm a clown. i'm a laugher, not a bully. well, maybe in my mind, but i have not been openly violent in years--YEARS i tell you! this woman wasn't even doing anything particularly awful, other than being a stereotypical drunk bitch, but i wanted to kick her fucking tight little ass.

i read at an open mic on wednesday, and i bolted right after the reading. i sat in my car and cried for about 30 minutes. before the reading even started, i was breaking down and lost one of my contact lenses. at first i thought it was in the back of my eyeball and would come back to my iris, but i must have brushed it onto the floor. after i gained minimal composure, i drove home with one hand over my eye. not fun. it made me appreciate my vision. being a pirate sure would suck, eh?

i don't want to be jenfish superstar anymore. she's dead to me. i want to keep writing, but i want to take a break from reading. i don't know what's going to happen to me. i will assure you of this much: i am NOT going to kill myself-(thank you good friends, antidepressants, and my rockin' therapist), i am NOT going to drink, and i am NOT going to be in any fucking squirrel cage.

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