normal again
Hello LJ. And so it appears that twitter does not suffice for all my needs.
I wish I were the kind of person who didn't need an outlet, who can just survive on twitter.
But here I am again writing in my LJ. It's not as cool as it used to be. Oh, go suck it. Obviously I am still think in terms of what's cool and what's not. You probably have different terms for it bet you still somewhat think in the same way.
I'm writing here again because (the most pathetic thing to write - "I am writing here because") the me I think myself to be is so far from the me I actually am. (Oh slay me now, you are so pathetic.) No, really. I've read this somewhere, during my time as a psychology major. It's the gap between what one experiences and what one thinks, or the gap between one's schemata and one's reality that causes all this mental disturbance. And looking across all these dating profiles on the net (particularly on that site which shall not be mentioned here), you, I see how the profile I would like to put there is so far from the profile which would actually be written, if I wrote the truth. I lie even as I speak. I lie even as I write. I'm mostly lies and nothing else. This is probably even a lie.
I feel like a religious bastard writing "I wish there were some cold hard fragment of truth in me that I could at least feel proud of". Like something solid and real and you could rest your head on. But no, there's nothing. (This is probably a lie.)
Maybe it's that everything I do seems...or a lot of the things I would normally, naturally do run counter my stature in life. (Hahaha, that's a funny thing to say, and also funny because translated that would so sound struggling lower-middle/lower-lower class). But if I were to do the things befitting my stature in life, then gosh that would just be so boring. It would be boring to the lie that is me that is thinking/writing this right now.
There are no solutions. No immediate solutions to this. Perhaps one good thing is that my work is focused on finding solutions to problems. (Unlike what i used to do before, which was just about talking about problems - oh whatever, I still don't quite know what that was supposed to be. It was clear before too many people started talking. It was clear when it was just May and Martin talking).
Later I will head off to work. (Should I say head on to work?) and do a fraction of a fraction of work. An ounce of work to keep things going (But everything else is going nowhere).
I wish I were the kind of person who didn't need an outlet, who can just survive on twitter.
But here I am again writing in my LJ. It's not as cool as it used to be. Oh, go suck it. Obviously I am still think in terms of what's cool and what's not. You probably have different terms for it bet you still somewhat think in the same way.
I'm writing here again because (the most pathetic thing to write - "I am writing here because") the me I think myself to be is so far from the me I actually am. (Oh slay me now, you are so pathetic.) No, really. I've read this somewhere, during my time as a psychology major. It's the gap between what one experiences and what one thinks, or the gap between one's schemata and one's reality that causes all this mental disturbance. And looking across all these dating profiles on the net (particularly on that site which shall not be mentioned here), you, I see how the profile I would like to put there is so far from the profile which would actually be written, if I wrote the truth. I lie even as I speak. I lie even as I write. I'm mostly lies and nothing else. This is probably even a lie.
I feel like a religious bastard writing "I wish there were some cold hard fragment of truth in me that I could at least feel proud of". Like something solid and real and you could rest your head on. But no, there's nothing. (This is probably a lie.)
Maybe it's that everything I do seems...or a lot of the things I would normally, naturally do run counter my stature in life. (Hahaha, that's a funny thing to say, and also funny because translated that would so sound struggling lower-middle/lower-lower class). But if I were to do the things befitting my stature in life, then gosh that would just be so boring. It would be boring to the lie that is me that is thinking/writing this right now.
There are no solutions. No immediate solutions to this. Perhaps one good thing is that my work is focused on finding solutions to problems. (Unlike what i used to do before, which was just about talking about problems - oh whatever, I still don't quite know what that was supposed to be. It was clear before too many people started talking. It was clear when it was just May and Martin talking).
Later I will head off to work. (Should I say head on to work?) and do a fraction of a fraction of work. An ounce of work to keep things going (But everything else is going nowhere).