(no subject)
I believe that I have become bored with writing. This matter, of course, bears deeper examination, because I know that I have yet to traverse every byway and hidden trail that words can offer up to my greedy mind, and there are greater depths still to troll in order to glean ever more meaningful approximations of my psyche through language. Without a doubt, I feel I need to write in order to reason my way around the gaping wound in my sanity, and yet at the same time I feel as if mere words simply are not enough to conquer the errant chemicals in my mind.
That, folks, is a fancy way of saying that I kinda wanted to write something, but didn't much give a fuck either way. So instead I'll just give a bunch of one-liners summing up exactly what's been going on in my life:
That about covers it. See you in a month or two.
Edit: I've been reading past entries of mine again. (These times are always accompanied by astonishment that I "used to be able to write that well.") Touching upon each of them, trying to remember who it was that wrote them, and thinking that these things really didn't happen too long ago. I think it's then that I made the mistake of looking at the dates of these entries and realizing they all happened a year ago - I subsequently realized that the entire last year of my life was a revolting waste, and that time only flies when you fill it with nothing of importance.
I've gotta get more caffeine or something into my system. I've got to kickstart proactivity somehow. I need something. Something to bring phoenix back for a spell to whip me into shape and remind me what living is like again.
I never did meet any requirement on my imperium post from over a year ago, and every last one of the items on that list could've been easily accomplished in the span of two months or less. I truly am turning into a royal fuckup, and I've got to change that.
I think most of the reason I've been feeling down is that I've created various persona in my brain that all centered around either transcendence of the norm, or hatred of the weak, and the last few months I've come to realize that by my actions I am both glaringly normal and disgustingly weak.
I will not tolerate this. I will not. I will get fucking pissed, and I will enact change, and I will fucking crush whatever gets in my way. That is what I must do. No more of this cynically laughable attempt to "think" my way around my depression; thoughts, like words, have no value without accompanying action.
I've got to get the fuck out of here.
That, folks, is a fancy way of saying that I kinda wanted to write something, but didn't much give a fuck either way. So instead I'll just give a bunch of one-liners summing up exactly what's been going on in my life:
- Still jobless; wondering bitterly about Michael putting in an application at a local market and getting a callback the second day, and me putting in applications at many many more places, and calling them back repeatedly, only to be met with disappointment; will look into blaming God for this on top of His iniquities against the emotional functionality of my brain; special note - incinerate every inch of the surrounding area with yet-to-be-discovered pyrokinesis and dance upon the scorched corpses of every last manager in the region.
- My Christmas presents this year were, as follows: $170, large supply of smoking tobacco, and a strange card with images of children on it sent to me by an LJ friend who's actually a CIA agent and is probably keeping tabs on me because I am no doubt a national security risk; also received several days of tonsillitis wherein I wove in and out lucidity as I questioned whether I could cool my fever in the River Styx; the sister's codeine wouldn't kill the pain in the back of my throat, on top of unsafe amounts of Advil, Tylenol, and Excedrin; am better now.
- Wondering why I'm sleeping so much; I understand fatigue is part of the "down", but I've never slept this often during depressive episodes in the past; currently attempting to combat this exhaustion having taken about 10 Excedrins in the last 8 hours, and will move to coffee soon in an attempt to spare my stomach lining and liver from giving me the finger and stumbling, intoxicatedly, out of my rear orifice; caffeine the only reason this update is happening.
- Tried to make myself draw something tonight; didn't work; want to kill things/cause severe pain/bash face into wall.
- Got my iPod to work after several months of it being dead; found out there's a new Machine Head album coming out in March; seeking more good news of this sort, so I'll probably finally get to repairing my bike sooner or later today after about 1.5 years of it's pedal being broken just so I can feel useful.
- Still wanna draw more but can't; fuck that - desire to draw, and subsequent inability to do so, has superceded my will to delve into wordsmithing in a dedicated matter as in the past; will look into ways of forcing my body to draw without being overcome by psychopathic rage and self-loathing.
- Really wished I had lots of vodka on New Year's Eve; still wish I had vodka right now; I need to get really, really shitfaced.
- Can't stop thinking about taking another walk past the airplane graveyard.
That about covers it. See you in a month or two.
Edit: I've been reading past entries of mine again. (These times are always accompanied by astonishment that I "used to be able to write that well.") Touching upon each of them, trying to remember who it was that wrote them, and thinking that these things really didn't happen too long ago. I think it's then that I made the mistake of looking at the dates of these entries and realizing they all happened a year ago - I subsequently realized that the entire last year of my life was a revolting waste, and that time only flies when you fill it with nothing of importance.
I've gotta get more caffeine or something into my system. I've got to kickstart proactivity somehow. I need something. Something to bring phoenix back for a spell to whip me into shape and remind me what living is like again.
I never did meet any requirement on my imperium post from over a year ago, and every last one of the items on that list could've been easily accomplished in the span of two months or less. I truly am turning into a royal fuckup, and I've got to change that.
I think most of the reason I've been feeling down is that I've created various persona in my brain that all centered around either transcendence of the norm, or hatred of the weak, and the last few months I've come to realize that by my actions I am both glaringly normal and disgustingly weak.
I will not tolerate this. I will not. I will get fucking pissed, and I will enact change, and I will fucking crush whatever gets in my way. That is what I must do. No more of this cynically laughable attempt to "think" my way around my depression; thoughts, like words, have no value without accompanying action.
I've got to get the fuck out of here.