I hated my weekend. Seriously. And right now, honestly, I just want to die. Sometimes I wish laziness and fear wouldn't keep me from killing myself. Just for once not have to worry about anything or feel the way I do right now.

I don't know what else to do. I really don't. I feel I just have this black cloud over me. Sometimes I just think of the weird shit that happen to me and it's just .... fucking why!? And then sometimes amazing things happen. Little miracles or something and I feel ... I feel at that time I'm blessed. But then anything good for me seems to be followed by something really ... really bad. Why? That's why I'm always scared when I'm happy for too long. I am. Seriously. Or sometimes I can't be happy even when things are going great because I'm thinking of when the inevitable will happen. Whe I crash from whatever cloud I flew up to.

The weekend wasn't that bad. I was having a pretty good time. Mark was gone. Well ... is. He's not back yet. When I got home from Friday, the toothpaste was gone and I knew he would be gone the whole weekend. I watched TV almost all weekend. I've been watching a lot of TV lately. I did that and listened to a CD I bought from this girl performing in the subway at Grand Central. Susan Cagle with this guy Joe Murphy. I just thought she was so good and for some reason, as I leaned there listening to her, I felt something. So after her song, I bought one of the CD's they had for ten bucks.

So no, the weekend was not bad. Not until this afternoon when I went over to Pathmark. First mistake was not having gloves. I never seem to wear gloves. My hands are usually the only part of my whole body cold. I could be walking shirtless in the Arctic and my hands would be the only part of my body that would get cold. So I left the apartment wearing light brown-ish gray cords, a red baseball shirt and black fleece pullover tied around my waist. It was windy as hell today and after getting blown into poles and having the wind tear at me halfway to the supermarket, I caught a bus. I had $49 exactly. Busfare, $1 so I was down to $48. I didn't have that much on my shopping list to begin with but knowing that I only had $48 made me chop it down even more.

When I say $48, I don't mean to just get groceries, I mean in total. In total, the only dollar bills I had, period ... totalled $48. I got the stuff I needed, debated whether or not I actually needed certain things and put them back. "I don't need to buy waffles now. I love waffles but I have cereal at home. I'll just have cereal for breakfast. No big deal. Hmmm ... cold cuts. I don't exactly need them. I should put 'em back. I already have cheese. I'll have cheese sandwiches. Lens solution. I need lens solution. Hmmm, the bigger one makes more sense. It comes down to less money. It's only a couple dollars over this one. But .... ugh ... I may not have enough money. I'll get the small one. Yeah. If anything, I can always get another bottle next week."

Despite everything I argued over and put back on the shelves, when I got to checkout, I saw my total going up really fast. "Uh, you know what? I don't need those." I stopped the cashier from checking the bag of grapes I got.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I don't need them. Thanks."

"Forty nine, sixty."

"Fuck!"

Then I did that 'I just KNOW I had more money on me' dig into my pockets. Your pockets are bottomless when you do that. The guy next in line was staring at me the whole time I was emptying my cart. He was cute and he had to see me telling the cashier I'll just put something back.

"What?"

"Uuuh .... this!" I took a carton of fruit punch out of the bag. "Juice. I don't need juice."

"Forty seven, ninety seven."

I couldn't look over at the guy again. I pulled my fleece over my head, grabbed my bags and walked out. There was some leak outside and when I looked up at the side of the building where water was spraying, I saw icicles. That's when I realized it was colder than I thought. Getting a bus wasn't a problem. Suddenly, it wasn't a problem. All the other times before when my bags were really heavy, I couldn't get one. But now, they were all over the place and ... I couldn't pay. I didn't have a dollar on me. A dollar! My hands hurt the whole way home. Plastic bags are a bitch when your hands are cold. Y'know sometimes pain gets so much that it seems to stop, that you don't feel it anymore? They say that's when all the endorphines and adrenaline have been released into the blood stream. I'm not sure if that's what happened or my hands were just too numb to feel anything. I thought of how funny it is that my hands are the most important to my work. Right along with my eyesight. I need my hands do be able to hold pencils and type.

I got home, dropped all the bags on the kitchen floor, came to my room and cried. And then I cried more thinking that I'm 22 and I still sometimes cry like a 12 year old. Then I realized that I have to be in the City tomorrow and I have no money. I took the apple sauce jar filled with loose change and emptied it all on my bed, picking out quarters. Then I just felt shittier and walked away. And I've just been spiralling since. It's not Ranger. It's not solitude. Not entirely. It's frustration. A lot of it. With not having a new laptop. With this immigration thing. Now I'm not here illegally. But in a way trapped. I can't leave the U.S. and still I'm not sure I'll be able to stay. And I don't want to leave. I don't. I don't want to give up the apartment. I don't want to give up Tera and Relm. I don't want to leave the life I've started to build.