"happiness is a sad song"

i have done absolutely nothing of import today, and that's okay, i guess... i tell myself. i paid a stack of bills (including $300 for 2 months of electricity... i am never home, but i do leave the thermostat around 80... i always promised myself that unto my own devices, in my own lairs, i would never be fucking cold. so i am not. i am poor and stupid and wasting precious resources, but whilst sweating.). ate vegan bacon bits out of a plastic bag- very fucking tasty, i must say- like chunks of brown salt. wandered around the goodwill, where i was one of the only people not wearing some sort of hijab. it has become apparent to me that i am no longer a tourist here. i have left the rumpled sheets of honeymoon bliss and am dealing with the annoying tedium of reality. and i miss him. i am dealing with the pain of saying goodbye all over again- how many times now? it has been over 2 weeks since we've spoken. "don't contact me, don't come to seattle, don't be around" i told him. mindfuckery, like a plant, will die without nourishment.
i found a journal from '98... when i was planning to move to prague. i was, unsurprisingly, miserable then too. i was writing about getting there and having those several weeks alone, being completely unreachable, pretending i was single, wondering if he'd arrive and i'd be gone. a few days after i'd written that he was the one who left, to live the czech dream while i was relearning how to smoke camel wides in a foul motel room in albequerque. i read it with a smirk. "serves me right" i thought. i was incredibly fucking arrogant to believe that i was the only one dissatisfied in that relationship. that same knowledge applies here. perhaps if i pull my head out of my ass well enough, i will eventually cease to make the same fucking mistakes over and over again. it must start somewhere.
every truly sad song is one with a memory, especially a lovely one, that is no longer applicable. the one that first comes to mind is "god rest his soul" by 31st of february (later the allman brothers), but i heard ac/dc "touch too much" on the radio the other day and very nearly started bawling. emotional evocation is proof that one has lived, i suppose.