feel vague feelings of hunger
feel like the last time i ate was ~15 minutes ago/seems 'nonsensical'
feel like substituting catharsis for hunger///this is how i feel right now:
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one morning lawrence woke up to a gelatinous disc pounding weed whacker rhythms in his head. lawrence got up and made a cup of coffee, then threw it out and made tea because coffee instigates his acid reflux. his dog barked, and lawrence kicked his face in. his dog's face was kicked in. lawrence put him on the couch. he was dead. lawrence went to his room.

his brother entered his room with a maglite brand flash light and wanted to hit him with it to see if it hurt.
"shut up or else i will kill you" lawrence said.
"what?" he replied. "oh."
"shut up" lawrence said, and so did his eyebrows
"i know"
"oops"
he left, and lawrence went downstairs. the dog was still there, and he was slightly bloated with gases and things. lawrence petted him and then went outside and climbed a tree. then he took the train into the city with two of his friends. lawrence felt depressed so he told one of his friends that he needed to go to the bathroom and throw up.
"can you wait a while? there isn't one nearby" she said
"yeah, i guess i can hold it in" lawrence said
his other friend didn't say anything
about fifteen minutes later they found a bathroom and lawrence went inside. lawrence felt awkward and made a few half-assed attempts at gagging, then washed his hands in the sink and paced around. as an afterthought, he put water in his hair and on his skin so it looked like he had been sweating, and he flushed the toilet.he spun around a few times to create the illusion of disorientation, then left the bathroom stumbling.
"are you ok?" his friend asked
"yeah i guess" lawrence said
"did you throw up?" she asked
"a little"
lawrence went home early and sat alone on the train. when lawrence got back home, the dog's ribs were poking through and his muscles showed in certain places.

this morning lawrence woke up and there was a squirrel on his window sill. he looked like an alien and lawrence sat extremely still under the covers for a few minutes. lawrence eventually got up and then sat on the floor for a number of hours with a worried facial expression hoping someone would look in and ask what was wrong. this ultimately proved a fruitless endeavor and lawrence retreated downstairs again. the dog had decayed and now he was an affectionate red spot on the couch. lawrence ate a cup of yogurt and read the newspaper.
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i think that lawrence is probably 'me', and the dog is my strained relationship with croissants