the mind is the enemy.

I think this is my issue with The Yellow Wallpaper. I just can't get past the obvious part of it--that a woman with too much to think about was given way too much time to think. The entire thing is just a bad idea.

I haven't written in a bit, and I've been writing far from regularly. I just haven't felt like it.
I would feel like it during the day time, but by the time I got home I realized what I had to say didn't matter all that much.
It wasn't anything that would be worth remembering in a day or two, or a month, or ever.

Ironically, I still remember some of it.
Such as:

"You seemed mad at me today. It's okay. I'm mad at me too.
Sometimes I think I don't apologize for being me, because I want you to be a little mad. I feel like I deserve it."

"Was it me you were talking about? Why wouldn't you talk to me? I kind of thought you trusted me more than that...
I don't want to overanalyze it. But if it was me that you and Daphne were whispering about...well, that might be a game-changer.
But with you, I don't intend on backing down."

"Maybe you're just a quiet bus-rider, too. I just hope I wasn't boring you when I left you alone, or bothering you when I did talk. You seemed to enjoy yourself just fine. Sometimes it really feels like we're family, and I like that. Thank you for talking to me and letting me into your life."

"You're a sly fucker, putting your hand on my leg like that. You don't even like me, why are you playing me?"

^Shit like that.

Today's my first time I'm home all day, and my sister's out all day, in Tampa with her friends who go to USF. I basically missed her spring break.
Except for the moments we did hang out, which were pretty golden.
Except when she kept telling me how it takes work to keep good friends, implying that I'm not trying hard enough. I know she was trying to be helpful, but it does take work from both sides. I guess I've been making it hard for anyone to want to be close to me, haven't I? Pushing everyone away, that's all I do regularly, just push everyone away.

I have too much time to think.

When I should be out with friends or family, just doing something, I'm always at home, not getting my homework done, wallowing about stuff that doesn't matter, stuff that I don't even remember later, I just get stuck in it and drag around in it and get deeper and more lost every minute I'm in there.

I don't even remember what I opened this to talk about, exactly.
I just ended up writing about everything I didn't want to think about.
Which is myself.
Which is other people.

Instead of stuff that has happened and how I feel about said stuff.

Here, I'll stop this here and start a new post. Try again.