and then one day you wake up

hungover [again], eyes still sore from the night before. marvel at the fact that, despite your being a smart, independent girl, other people can still effect you this way. i stumble off the boat in the rain [thank god] and push by all the fanatics gathering like moths to the flame of the seven foot knoll lighthouse. the lighthouse challenge is today, i don't understand the obsession. they greet me in my pajamas as if i am one of them, only confirming in my mind how fucking weird they are. 'i live here' i mumble, and make my way to the office, the computer, my attempt to write something and purge myself of this shit and frustration. a few drinks and one non-existent phone call is all it took to dissolve this one into a specter of doubt and loathing. i don't want to care, but i do. i don't want to want anything more than my rockstar self, but i do. i hate being confronted by the weakness i refuse to accept.