(no subject)
there's a strong chance my brain may be liquefying.
i have these bastards of a headache almost daily. doc says it's eye strain. i say fuck off.
i've gone from having thousands of different ideas and notions about the world, all whizzing around upstairs in my head clammering for attention to practically nothing. seriously, i come fully equipped with a vacant expression, a dull throb in my head, and any memory of a moderately healthy complexion long since transformed into dust. today, i sat in a seminar, fully aware of what was being said, fully aware of the drop dead gorgeous girl opposite me, yet, i felt and probably looked completely catatonic. although oddly, my brain tried to kick start some sign of life, and i swear that after two hours in the same room, i could hear Chopin playing somewhere. possibly in my head, but welcome all the same.
i called Max last night. sounded...croaky and tired. but i know what it is. he's alone. his 'friends' have abandoned him, me included. i feel like a fucker. i am.
so we find ways of making the days sting less than they already do. we endure the crap and try to extract at least part of the day that doesn't make you want to slip away into the wild.
most people just 'live', they get on with it, and it's just fine and it's enough for them. others...write about it, ever concerned with the futility of life, not realising that thinking in such a way is exactly what makes it futile.
i have these bastards of a headache almost daily. doc says it's eye strain. i say fuck off.
i've gone from having thousands of different ideas and notions about the world, all whizzing around upstairs in my head clammering for attention to practically nothing. seriously, i come fully equipped with a vacant expression, a dull throb in my head, and any memory of a moderately healthy complexion long since transformed into dust. today, i sat in a seminar, fully aware of what was being said, fully aware of the drop dead gorgeous girl opposite me, yet, i felt and probably looked completely catatonic. although oddly, my brain tried to kick start some sign of life, and i swear that after two hours in the same room, i could hear Chopin playing somewhere. possibly in my head, but welcome all the same.
i called Max last night. sounded...croaky and tired. but i know what it is. he's alone. his 'friends' have abandoned him, me included. i feel like a fucker. i am.
so we find ways of making the days sting less than they already do. we endure the crap and try to extract at least part of the day that doesn't make you want to slip away into the wild.
most people just 'live', they get on with it, and it's just fine and it's enough for them. others...write about it, ever concerned with the futility of life, not realising that thinking in such a way is exactly what makes it futile.