[i'm going through periods of maniac depression.]

at work i'm flying high. i'm ecstatic. the words come easily and i build up an amazing repetoire [sp?] between myself and others. i hit all the right beats at exactly the right time and i make everybody feel good. i say things that make them laugh. i say things that i know will make them laugh. i am all-knowing. i am powerful. i am god.

[5 or six hours later.]

i feel as though there is a sickness spreading in my belly. i feel the need to vomit. but i can't. i feel like i'm repressing something but i don't understand what. or where it's coming from. "you can only pretend for so long" is running through my head. i think i want to cry.

[i borrowed my mommy's pastel's. i think i need to put some beauty back.]