(no subject)
Every day off is a sublime torture unto itself. Voluntarily imprisoned w/in my apartment, growing fatter and wishing for an end to come. Jealous, lonely. The archduke once suggested that it's not lonely alone; I tend to prefer: "you don't have to be alone to be lonely." What have I done with my time off this week? I watched an episode of Weeds, got caught up with the Hills, watched Leno, Fallon and Ferguson. Frankly, Craig Ferguson is the best late night talk show personality since Carson. Fallon is nigh unwatchable, it's like a painful, psychologically disturbing train wreck. If Jennifer Aniston hadn't stolen the show from him last night and kicked him out of his desk and banished him to the interviewee couch... Well, it wouldn't've been worth watching. Oh, I also watched Across the Universe; didn't hate it, but it's a lot like Moulan Rouge. I shoulda prefaced that by saying I don't much care for Moulan Rouge.
Also watched "What Love Is" which really just reeled me in with Matthew Lillard. It was like, "Hey Matthew Lillard, go pretend to be drunk and just shout out long winded egotistical soliloquies for an hour." And I was like -yes- And then as he's winding down a stripper pole drops from the sky and a bunch of babes w/ fake bewbs started stripping. And I was like -yes- And then Rudy fell in love with some chick wielding an etchasketch and Cuba Gooding Jr. did something dumb and I was like _meh_ Also watched part of the Jane Austin Book Club, it wasn't godawful hideous. I didn't watch the start of it, but the rest of it didn't suck. I have a feeling that I woulda appreciated it more if I knew Jane Austin's stories better; there was a sense of it being a pastiche of 6 stories, but it coulda just been Persuasion.
I had an idea that I might start writing. Like, actually get at writing writing, not just this petulant melancholy whining. I haven't been able to convince myself to really try anything like that since my trip to the Kafka Museum when I learned that he requested that his writings not be made public. He's, probably, more creative than I am, and if his stuff doesn't deserve to be shared with the world, if the earth is a better place w/o it, than what kind of conceit could drive me to impose upon it my thoughts?
I've been thinking a lot about love. That's not totally correct. Not love, but Love, ya know? Some people know the difference. I don't think that I do. I've never liked myself, and if Love is a reciprocal feeling that begins with self-Love (not masturbation) then it's a cinch that I've never been through it. I have been scary, like creepy scary obsessed, with a couple of girls where I woulda done anything I could to make them happy; which ultimately leads to leaving them alone. But I don't think that's Love, it's not even love, it's just perverse, and bad. There've been other people that I *know* liked me (as much as is possible) and there's been a couple of instances where I cared about them too. I don't talk with those people and that's probably the right decision.
That was frustratingly vague. This isn't much of a place to keep a journal; too big of a possible audience. Can't really use names, can't really say what I wanna do or how I'm really feeling. Like really-really feeling.
Ultimately it's just that days off are bad. When I'm working I don't so much feel better; but at least I'm out, and doing something, and the music is so loud that I don't have to hear myself think, and I'm being a productive member of society instead of sitting aside, hating myself trying not to bother anyone aside from the delivery personnel.
Lol, lj has a spell check now, which is awesome; but it doesn't like my casual style, which is less than awesome. Apparently I shouldn't've used woulda, coulda shoulda or double contractions.
Also watched "What Love Is" which really just reeled me in with Matthew Lillard. It was like, "Hey Matthew Lillard, go pretend to be drunk and just shout out long winded egotistical soliloquies for an hour." And I was like -yes- And then as he's winding down a stripper pole drops from the sky and a bunch of babes w/ fake bewbs started stripping. And I was like -yes- And then Rudy fell in love with some chick wielding an etchasketch and Cuba Gooding Jr. did something dumb and I was like _meh_ Also watched part of the Jane Austin Book Club, it wasn't godawful hideous. I didn't watch the start of it, but the rest of it didn't suck. I have a feeling that I woulda appreciated it more if I knew Jane Austin's stories better; there was a sense of it being a pastiche of 6 stories, but it coulda just been Persuasion.
I had an idea that I might start writing. Like, actually get at writing writing, not just this petulant melancholy whining. I haven't been able to convince myself to really try anything like that since my trip to the Kafka Museum when I learned that he requested that his writings not be made public. He's, probably, more creative than I am, and if his stuff doesn't deserve to be shared with the world, if the earth is a better place w/o it, than what kind of conceit could drive me to impose upon it my thoughts?
I've been thinking a lot about love. That's not totally correct. Not love, but Love, ya know? Some people know the difference. I don't think that I do. I've never liked myself, and if Love is a reciprocal feeling that begins with self-Love (not masturbation) then it's a cinch that I've never been through it. I have been scary, like creepy scary obsessed, with a couple of girls where I woulda done anything I could to make them happy; which ultimately leads to leaving them alone. But I don't think that's Love, it's not even love, it's just perverse, and bad. There've been other people that I *know* liked me (as much as is possible) and there's been a couple of instances where I cared about them too. I don't talk with those people and that's probably the right decision.
That was frustratingly vague. This isn't much of a place to keep a journal; too big of a possible audience. Can't really use names, can't really say what I wanna do or how I'm really feeling. Like really-really feeling.
Ultimately it's just that days off are bad. When I'm working I don't so much feel better; but at least I'm out, and doing something, and the music is so loud that I don't have to hear myself think, and I'm being a productive member of society instead of sitting aside, hating myself trying not to bother anyone aside from the delivery personnel.
Lol, lj has a spell check now, which is awesome; but it doesn't like my casual style, which is less than awesome. Apparently I shouldn't've used woulda, coulda shoulda or double contractions.