more paranoid thoughts, unfortuantely
I'm plagued with a lot of insecurities right now. I know that there's no one in my past that would really seek me out. That is both a depressing fact and a sad reality. Like I said in the past entry, I'm not particularly likable.
Also, I've been abusing the hell out of my twitter. That has got to stop. I've got to focus on the happier things. This writing of negative thoughts IS the "softer, easier solution."
That does not, however, change certain thoughts. I'm getting more and more interested in the idea of walling myself off from the past. When the past comes knocking, we can make sure the door is locked, the bridges are burnt, and that a proper hiding place is in store. It's sad to say, but so many of the people I've loved and trusted, I've actually betrayed and used. I never have been a good friend.
A very appropriate song just came on my pandora --"Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd.
I know that if I do act on any of these thoughts or impulses, the quality of my life will decrease and I'll be left wondering "what if...?" but, the fact of the matter is, I'll do that even if I do not act on those thoughts and impulses.
I want to live like life was in the mid-20th century. I want to be unencumbered by a lot of these modern edifices. I know that's equally foolish and also will not happen, but a guy can dream, can't he?
I just wish these tired, paranoid thoughts would vanish.
I've got to start anew, even if it means severing ties with several close people. But, again, why bother? Am I really that important, that cocksure, that anyone will come knocking on my door? Not after all the crap I've put people through. But, I guess, there's a part of me that hopes someone will knock, if only to make sure I'm alive.
I had that opportunity to start myself a new in 2004. I wish I had done better to seize it. But, for better or for worse, I am here, in Modesto, 25, unemployed, living with my parents, bipolar and medicated (for now). Yep, I'm a real winner. I have a disastrous legacy to show for it, too.
I guess the self-loathing and self-hatred won't stop, at least not tonight. I'm a product of my times, and the times seem to be full of self-doubt and anxiety.
I dunno. I just want to be taken seriously; unfortunately, my devotion to being serious has rendered me a caricature, a cartoon, a non-real figure.
I keep erasing paragraphs for fear of how ridiculous they'll look after I press "post." Of course, if that truly were stopping me, then I wouldn't have these nearly 1,500 entries, now would I?
Also, I've been abusing the hell out of my twitter. That has got to stop. I've got to focus on the happier things. This writing of negative thoughts IS the "softer, easier solution."
That does not, however, change certain thoughts. I'm getting more and more interested in the idea of walling myself off from the past. When the past comes knocking, we can make sure the door is locked, the bridges are burnt, and that a proper hiding place is in store. It's sad to say, but so many of the people I've loved and trusted, I've actually betrayed and used. I never have been a good friend.
A very appropriate song just came on my pandora --"Brain Damage" by Pink Floyd.
I know that if I do act on any of these thoughts or impulses, the quality of my life will decrease and I'll be left wondering "what if...?" but, the fact of the matter is, I'll do that even if I do not act on those thoughts and impulses.
I want to live like life was in the mid-20th century. I want to be unencumbered by a lot of these modern edifices. I know that's equally foolish and also will not happen, but a guy can dream, can't he?
I just wish these tired, paranoid thoughts would vanish.
I've got to start anew, even if it means severing ties with several close people. But, again, why bother? Am I really that important, that cocksure, that anyone will come knocking on my door? Not after all the crap I've put people through. But, I guess, there's a part of me that hopes someone will knock, if only to make sure I'm alive.
I had that opportunity to start myself a new in 2004. I wish I had done better to seize it. But, for better or for worse, I am here, in Modesto, 25, unemployed, living with my parents, bipolar and medicated (for now). Yep, I'm a real winner. I have a disastrous legacy to show for it, too.
I guess the self-loathing and self-hatred won't stop, at least not tonight. I'm a product of my times, and the times seem to be full of self-doubt and anxiety.
I dunno. I just want to be taken seriously; unfortunately, my devotion to being serious has rendered me a caricature, a cartoon, a non-real figure.
I keep erasing paragraphs for fear of how ridiculous they'll look after I press "post." Of course, if that truly were stopping me, then I wouldn't have these nearly 1,500 entries, now would I?