(no subject)
Honestly, I can't think of a reason to maintain this blog anymore.
It has nothing to do with wanting to distance myself from anything in particular...actually, for once in my life, it doesn't have anything to do with trends, self-doubt, a desire to sink into seclusion, lethargy, etc etc. Sure, whenever I feel the urge to actually make an entry in here, the wording always sounds so vivid and grandiose in my head. Every single word impeccably placed, sentences and thoughts flowing from one to another like water down a riverbed.
Of course, every entry of mine is ALWAYS a great one until I actually sit down to begin writing it.
Part of it probably has to do with not wanting to embellish anything about my life anymore. I know that maintaining something like these doesn't necessarily have to be an instance of making oneself into the center of a self-absorbed universe, putting every single little nuance and random thought of theirs on display for any and all readers like some sort of gallery of anecdotes. I wish I had the sort of opportunities and discipline to be able to remain on point with certain things and perhaps generate some really intriguing, or even remotely uniform entries that could be marked with specific situational tags rather than just a hodgepodge of brain excretions. I've seen some people on here who have mastered the art of short and contrite entries about things as simple as food, complete with accompanying pictures and all, and they strike me as being perfect in the sense that they're absolutely FOCUSED on the subject at hand.
And perhaps maybe that's the underlying reason behind my seeming inability to get anything worthwhile up here; lack of focus.
Strikes me as being somewhat odd because now, more than ever, my life has been teeming with activity. Every so often I'll sit here on a VERY slow evening when nobody is answering their cell phones and it seems as if the whole city is asleep, and I have to remind myself that the brief feelings of frustration that snap at me are so incredibly small compared to the feeling of near-isolation I felt when nearly every single evening of mine was spent sequestered away in my room, wondering where the hell everybody was but absolutely certain that they were having a blast without me around.
Self-deprecation aside, the truth of the matter is that I'm still going to college (back to majoring in English once again), still making progress with music (despite a hiatus of nearly one full year), and still unable to find any sort of steady employment (all but given up at this point). Love life is pretty much on life-support, or cryogenic stasis...whichever really. It's reached a point where I really don't mind it much anymore. There is a severe lack of decent and bright SINGLE women down here, and most of the ones who are single...let's just say that they don't don't know how to fucking take care of themselves. It's almost disheartening, but I'm not about to put myself in a position to where I'm entertaining the advances of a single mother with two kids just because of mutual loneliness and NOTHING else. It's a recipe for disaster, and I'm honestly not that desperate anyway. It's a shame since I've had to pretty much bury most of my natural charm stemming from a keen sense of romanticism, but...well...who knows. Either something will happen, or it won't. Not really worried about it anymore.
What is worrisome is how a couple of people have just up and disappeared from my life during the past six months. No reason or rhyme...just gone. I'm sure they have their reasons, and I'm just as sure that they're not very good ones, but there really isn't much else I can do about it other than to just continue my own pursuit of...whatever the hell it is I'm seeking to accomplish or discover.
Gah, this ended up more wordy than I had initially planned on.
It has nothing to do with wanting to distance myself from anything in particular...actually, for once in my life, it doesn't have anything to do with trends, self-doubt, a desire to sink into seclusion, lethargy, etc etc. Sure, whenever I feel the urge to actually make an entry in here, the wording always sounds so vivid and grandiose in my head. Every single word impeccably placed, sentences and thoughts flowing from one to another like water down a riverbed.
Of course, every entry of mine is ALWAYS a great one until I actually sit down to begin writing it.
Part of it probably has to do with not wanting to embellish anything about my life anymore. I know that maintaining something like these doesn't necessarily have to be an instance of making oneself into the center of a self-absorbed universe, putting every single little nuance and random thought of theirs on display for any and all readers like some sort of gallery of anecdotes. I wish I had the sort of opportunities and discipline to be able to remain on point with certain things and perhaps generate some really intriguing, or even remotely uniform entries that could be marked with specific situational tags rather than just a hodgepodge of brain excretions. I've seen some people on here who have mastered the art of short and contrite entries about things as simple as food, complete with accompanying pictures and all, and they strike me as being perfect in the sense that they're absolutely FOCUSED on the subject at hand.
And perhaps maybe that's the underlying reason behind my seeming inability to get anything worthwhile up here; lack of focus.
Strikes me as being somewhat odd because now, more than ever, my life has been teeming with activity. Every so often I'll sit here on a VERY slow evening when nobody is answering their cell phones and it seems as if the whole city is asleep, and I have to remind myself that the brief feelings of frustration that snap at me are so incredibly small compared to the feeling of near-isolation I felt when nearly every single evening of mine was spent sequestered away in my room, wondering where the hell everybody was but absolutely certain that they were having a blast without me around.
Self-deprecation aside, the truth of the matter is that I'm still going to college (back to majoring in English once again), still making progress with music (despite a hiatus of nearly one full year), and still unable to find any sort of steady employment (all but given up at this point). Love life is pretty much on life-support, or cryogenic stasis...whichever really. It's reached a point where I really don't mind it much anymore. There is a severe lack of decent and bright SINGLE women down here, and most of the ones who are single...let's just say that they don't don't know how to fucking take care of themselves. It's almost disheartening, but I'm not about to put myself in a position to where I'm entertaining the advances of a single mother with two kids just because of mutual loneliness and NOTHING else. It's a recipe for disaster, and I'm honestly not that desperate anyway. It's a shame since I've had to pretty much bury most of my natural charm stemming from a keen sense of romanticism, but...well...who knows. Either something will happen, or it won't. Not really worried about it anymore.
What is worrisome is how a couple of people have just up and disappeared from my life during the past six months. No reason or rhyme...just gone. I'm sure they have their reasons, and I'm just as sure that they're not very good ones, but there really isn't much else I can do about it other than to just continue my own pursuit of...whatever the hell it is I'm seeking to accomplish or discover.
Gah, this ended up more wordy than I had initially planned on.