welcome back to the realm of not-reality, may I take your coat?
I just forgot how I was going to start this
but
I'm existing in the moment
these days
as much as I can
and
I'm thinking about dropping out again
and
yeah.
If I stopped being right now I really wouldn't care. Except that, not three words into that sentence, the counterexamples started forming. And, except that I would have rescinded that sentence right afterwards anyway.. I guess so people wouldn't worry about me.
And I'm thinking about
all that eleanorsmiles and I talked about a couple of weeks back and how much that helped.
And I'm hating how
before the car had even gotten halfway "home" my Mom had managed to adroitly uncover everything I had just, with eleanorsmiles's help, managed to lay to rest in shallow graves and perhaps get a shovelful, maybe two, of dirt over the faces of.
You know, they all are trying to help by getting me to care about school and my future, but WHO THE HELL is it helping to have me laying awake at night? WHO THE HELL is it helping to reawaken--maybe even add more--insecurities to the mountain?
So yeah. I think I'm back to a lot more than a tidy little three-word "I Don't Know". I think I'm back to WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I'M CHOOSING TO BE? WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I'M CHOOSING TO BE? and all the rest of it--The Sleepless Loop, the self-hate, the doubt for the future, the drifting, the dropping out, the getting-a-shit-job-and-just-working-until-I-have-all-of-the-answers-so-I-won't-waste-my-parent's-precious-money, all of the "oh, sorry, am I not perfect? Well, excuse me for trying to FIND MY OWN WAY(tm) and let me scamper back into that mold you hammered me into and pretend that all of this is working when it's not."
I'm feeling better now. I don't think things are better or that this has gone away (on the contrary, it now has another claw in my soul, in my heart---at least something does.) I'd like to think I'm spent and ready for bed or sleep but I don't think that'll happen just yet (for one I have a blog entry to make, though I doubt I'll cross-post this there, I might just be crazy enough to.).
In addition to feeling better, I no longer want to drop out of college again--the horrors of working my life away just so I can live are too much....I think. (Mr. Secure, Mr. Sure Strikes again, eh?)
In a nice, weak, closing I think it's time to change this journal's name from "Ernest on LiveJournal" to "fighting the demons and the ghosts inside" or something else, something better than the Ernest franchise---all of the members of which have been renamed.
I wonder if my inner struggles, as I guess I'm portraying them (as struggles, conflicts), are reflections of some facet of my external life/reality or my inner reality trying to fill the void that has formed due to my lack of external conflict and to perhaps atone for my guilt of being such a privileged human being.
Or maybe these struggles are just what they are.
This journal could also be plausibly renamed to "angst -- two cents a ton" and the poems section of my website to the same or perhaps to "I love while you don't care" and, with that last one, maybe I'm just being mean. But no one should heed my tiny screaming voice anyways, so it shouldn't matter.
I don't think I'm sure of anything right now. I think that makes me a skeptic with a dash of nihilism and whatever-its-called-when-you-don't-believe-reality-is-reality/real.
This entry has reached the level of not only fucked-up but of stream-of-conscious rambling. Just like old times, eh? Just like old times.
but
I'm existing in the moment
these days
as much as I can
and
I'm thinking about dropping out again
and
yeah.
If I stopped being right now I really wouldn't care. Except that, not three words into that sentence, the counterexamples started forming. And, except that I would have rescinded that sentence right afterwards anyway.. I guess so people wouldn't worry about me.
And I'm thinking about
all that eleanorsmiles and I talked about a couple of weeks back and how much that helped.
And I'm hating how
before the car had even gotten halfway "home" my Mom had managed to adroitly uncover everything I had just, with eleanorsmiles's help, managed to lay to rest in shallow graves and perhaps get a shovelful, maybe two, of dirt over the faces of.
You know, they all are trying to help by getting me to care about school and my future, but WHO THE HELL is it helping to have me laying awake at night? WHO THE HELL is it helping to reawaken--maybe even add more--insecurities to the mountain?
So yeah. I think I'm back to a lot more than a tidy little three-word "I Don't Know". I think I'm back to WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I'M CHOOSING TO BE? WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I ACCEPT ME FOR WHO I'M CHOOSING TO BE? and all the rest of it--The Sleepless Loop, the self-hate, the doubt for the future, the drifting, the dropping out, the getting-a-shit-job-and-just-working-until-I-have-all-of-the-answers-so-I-won't-waste-my-parent's-precious-money, all of the "oh, sorry, am I not perfect? Well, excuse me for trying to FIND MY OWN WAY(tm) and let me scamper back into that mold you hammered me into and pretend that all of this is working when it's not."
I'm feeling better now. I don't think things are better or that this has gone away (on the contrary, it now has another claw in my soul, in my heart---at least something does.) I'd like to think I'm spent and ready for bed or sleep but I don't think that'll happen just yet (for one I have a blog entry to make, though I doubt I'll cross-post this there, I might just be crazy enough to.).
In addition to feeling better, I no longer want to drop out of college again--the horrors of working my life away just so I can live are too much....I think. (Mr. Secure, Mr. Sure Strikes again, eh?)
In a nice, weak, closing I think it's time to change this journal's name from "Ernest on LiveJournal" to "fighting the demons and the ghosts inside" or something else, something better than the Ernest franchise---all of the members of which have been renamed.
I wonder if my inner struggles, as I guess I'm portraying them (as struggles, conflicts), are reflections of some facet of my external life/reality or my inner reality trying to fill the void that has formed due to my lack of external conflict and to perhaps atone for my guilt of being such a privileged human being.
Or maybe these struggles are just what they are.
This journal could also be plausibly renamed to "angst -- two cents a ton" and the poems section of my website to the same or perhaps to "I love while you don't care" and, with that last one, maybe I'm just being mean. But no one should heed my tiny screaming voice anyways, so it shouldn't matter.
I don't think I'm sure of anything right now. I think that makes me a skeptic with a dash of nihilism and whatever-its-called-when-you-don't-believe-reality-is-reality/real.
This entry has reached the level of not only fucked-up but of stream-of-conscious rambling. Just like old times, eh? Just like old times.