the truth on a sliding scale

so, i havnt been able to write for a while. this is not entirely true-my hands have not been tied behind my back. i have been isolated completely for one week now and god, do i feel the isolation. you could say ive been sick, but that is not entirely true. i, in fact, have not felt well and i have been on medication. i am having a hard time because i detest lying-even to strangers. yet, at this moment i am struggling between feeling the need for a certain amount of privacy, and wanting to express the fact that i feel lonely right at this moment. and i needed to write about it. i told someone at the beginning of this week that i sprained my wrist-a white lie that hurts no one but gives an explanation for my absense. i do in fact have a HUGE and ugly bruise on my inner right arm that is only beginning to fade. i miss smoking. i miss drinking. i want to have sex. i think my cat plots against me. i am dizzy quite often. my stomach hurts. i have watched more tv in a week than in six months. i feel like i am in a darkish place right now. i know i will be okay. all of these things are true. in my medicated state i miss my ex who i fully believed by this point i would have married and had a kid with. im irritated at the fact i could miss him-even medicated. but i understand its my human nature. we had a lot of fun, i really loved him. my cat knows im "sick"-he is positively fucking glued to me. and he stares....
i think i am positively going to florida. i think after that i will be moving to north hollywood to pursue a darkly romantic existance (and further education.)
i am a high. loneliness never lasts. i might feel a little too out of it-which is why i havnt written. i feel quietly out of control. i am done.