I'm in a MOOD today...
I really do not know the last time I used this blog. Certainly not since I was young enough to be principled against using the word "blog".
If I had to guess, I'd guess 5 years ago. Suddenly, today, I decided I had use for this page again. I was able to remember the password. I entered my "profile page" thinking I'd need to update it as fast as possible before second-hand embarrassment for my 17-year-old self set in. Not that I was 17 five years ago, but I was clearly 17 in 2004 when I created the account.
I didn't know whether to laugh or puke when I got to the "interests". Adam Sandler, Experimental Theatre, Robin Williams' Chest Hair, Jewish People... to name a few. Poor. Clueless. Dorky. Loser. Me. Fresh out of braces. I try not to remember my adolescence much. I say adolescence, but I mean teen years. At 26 I am just now crawling out of my slow and bumpy adolescence and into a wobbly-kneed adulthood. Now it doesn't hurt so much to be a loser. I decided not to waste my time updating an LJ profile. I'll keep it as a time capsule of my 17-year-old self.
Today I buckled under the mossy rock of self-loathing I've been dragging around since I reached an age of accountability. Thus, you find me blogging.
On this sunny, clean-skied day I found myself alone and with spare time, and aimlessly walking through a picturesque part of town. The sidewalks buzzed with comfortable people, obviously happy, on a Texas-high. God, these motherfuckers looked happy. Happy with their clothes, happy with their dogs, happy with their coffees, happy with their kids happy with their manicures happy with their real estate happy with their company or with their solitude!!! And I know I made so many assumptions, but these people started to piss me off. My throat and stomach started to make fists. I dizzied my mind with curses for every body and every thing around me.
I sent myself into a rage which sent me into a panic attack.
I am only 26. My life is AMAZING. I have no real problems. Except for maybe my teeth. And this monster inside me just wont let me be. It's a cynicism. A constant yammering in the brain. An engineer running my gears, always preparing me for the worst, projecting a slideshow of morbid imagery always, just behind my eyes. Hating organization, hating authority, hating obligation, scoffing at any positive opinion, painting the fucking place black. I can almost always remember feeling this way.
The sight of a crowded restaurant makes me spit.
Such a nasty, miserable animal. With nothing to complain about but itself. Such an ugly, egotistical shell.
I'm afraid I'm making myself unhealthy.
By the time I got home to Seth I was a mess. With enough laughing we got me halfway back to humanity and I am happy to be here. I realize I need a new project. My constant kinetic nature, I guess, is still too idle to keep the devil out of me. Today I find I need another Passion. Got to log off the procrastinet and START SHIT.
I will keep getting older and growing into whatever new kind of fool I can. Writing today, I am assured of my progress.
If I had to guess, I'd guess 5 years ago. Suddenly, today, I decided I had use for this page again. I was able to remember the password. I entered my "profile page" thinking I'd need to update it as fast as possible before second-hand embarrassment for my 17-year-old self set in. Not that I was 17 five years ago, but I was clearly 17 in 2004 when I created the account.
I didn't know whether to laugh or puke when I got to the "interests". Adam Sandler, Experimental Theatre, Robin Williams' Chest Hair, Jewish People... to name a few. Poor. Clueless. Dorky. Loser. Me. Fresh out of braces. I try not to remember my adolescence much. I say adolescence, but I mean teen years. At 26 I am just now crawling out of my slow and bumpy adolescence and into a wobbly-kneed adulthood. Now it doesn't hurt so much to be a loser. I decided not to waste my time updating an LJ profile. I'll keep it as a time capsule of my 17-year-old self.
Today I buckled under the mossy rock of self-loathing I've been dragging around since I reached an age of accountability. Thus, you find me blogging.
On this sunny, clean-skied day I found myself alone and with spare time, and aimlessly walking through a picturesque part of town. The sidewalks buzzed with comfortable people, obviously happy, on a Texas-high. God, these motherfuckers looked happy. Happy with their clothes, happy with their dogs, happy with their coffees, happy with their kids happy with their manicures happy with their real estate happy with their company or with their solitude!!! And I know I made so many assumptions, but these people started to piss me off. My throat and stomach started to make fists. I dizzied my mind with curses for every body and every thing around me.
I sent myself into a rage which sent me into a panic attack.
I am only 26. My life is AMAZING. I have no real problems. Except for maybe my teeth. And this monster inside me just wont let me be. It's a cynicism. A constant yammering in the brain. An engineer running my gears, always preparing me for the worst, projecting a slideshow of morbid imagery always, just behind my eyes. Hating organization, hating authority, hating obligation, scoffing at any positive opinion, painting the fucking place black. I can almost always remember feeling this way.
The sight of a crowded restaurant makes me spit.
Such a nasty, miserable animal. With nothing to complain about but itself. Such an ugly, egotistical shell.
I'm afraid I'm making myself unhealthy.
By the time I got home to Seth I was a mess. With enough laughing we got me halfway back to humanity and I am happy to be here. I realize I need a new project. My constant kinetic nature, I guess, is still too idle to keep the devil out of me. Today I find I need another Passion. Got to log off the procrastinet and START SHIT.
I will keep getting older and growing into whatever new kind of fool I can. Writing today, I am assured of my progress.