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2002-01-27 - 9:12 p.m. I hate myself right now. Or I hate the world, I don't know which. I spend most of the day doing nothing and yet I resent every single moment that I have to spend doing something, doing anything at all. It's stupid, I've got no right to expect such an easy life, but still, every time the phone rings, or I think about the writing I'm supposed to be doing (my supervisor is going to be worrying... I should have done something by now) I feel this wave of resentment. It's like I'm angry at being alive, angry at the whole world, angry at everything. I think it might be the wash-over from the stupid ugly domestic incident the other day. It wasn't big deal... mum just gathered us all together so she could guilt trip us about the fact that sometimes we don't do the washing up as fast as she'd like. So much bitterness, so many vile implications of disgust and shame, over something so fucking trivial, she gets to give us all a kick, but of course expressing your feelings is a one way street. There's no way I could tell her what I think of her. And so, because I stood there and took it, mute, like a dog being beaten by its master and not knowing what to do or where to turn, today everything has a greasy stain of resentment on it. I hate feeling like this, I hate the person I am when I am like this, I want to feel clean and fresh and forgiving and generous and energetic, ready for new adventures... instead I feel like old wine turning into vinegar. - "You're born into this life paying for The sins of somebody else's past" - Bruce Springsteen
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