Testing, one two three...
Do I even know how to write anymore? That is the function of this "update". maybe I'm going a little crazy, or maybe I am going sane. Somehow "going sane" sounds like a very serious horrible problem. What's new and different? What isn't? Lately I stay up too late and get up at noon; a bad habit I want to correct. I eat about one solid meal a day and 1-2 snacks. I'm not on a diet, it's just bad, no order, no schedule. Currently I have a pair new dark floating specks in my vision. My left knee always feels less than 100%. Every wednesday night at midnight I work until 5AM. This makes me crazy, throws off my sense of what day it is, makes my consume-and-excrete schedule all haywire. At the computer my fingers are almost always freezing. It's COLD and gas is too expensive so I'm trying to get by without using the heater. My cat doesn't like it when I stay out too late and she expresses these emotions with diarrhea poo. I am so poor I am only drinking a few beers a week as compared to a few a day. I've lost a couple pounds as a result. I am "In a Relationship" now, and while this whole internet profile status thing slightly annoys me, I am quite happy about the circumstance. But I hear nothing but Musak love-songs about 20 hours a week at my retail job; this is very unnatural to be subjected to, and makes me never want to hear the word "love" again, especially in a "never gonna stop, I will always, my one and only, of my life, will never again" context. I think real true love makes you want to be quiet, not SING ABOUT IT. SHUT UP!!! Also, pop singers, I'd rather not hear how sad you are to be lonely and broken hearted either. You know, you CAN in fact live without that person, and if you can't you should die. We don't need defectives like you around. If we take these songs off the air though, all you have left are songs telling you that you need to dance and move and jump and do this or that dance and celebrate nothing in particular except your denial of real life. Musak is like exposure to radioactivity.
My hair has been pretty good lately though. But how am I? I don't really know honestly. I haven't had time to catch up with myself. I'm waiting for something to happen, waiting for things to click, and they sort of are but sort of not. Maybe this is what real life is, uncertainty and insecurity. I don't mean self-conscious insecurity, I mean a total lack of security in life, an awareness that nothing is ever really secure; it's only the seemingness of security that gives us comfort. I mean, sometimes I want to scream and cry, what the fuck am I doing??? I don't have a plan and I'm waiting for one to develop in my mind. In the mean time, I focus on eating, sleeping and domestic maintenance, making money, staying afloat, and having some fun once in a while. that's life but it's not what life is about. It's not my story. I don't know what my story is anymore. I'm just here in a darkened theater, after-hours, munching on stolen popcorn and milk duds, too cold and lazy to get up and go, not knowing where I'd go if I were to.
It's fucking exhausting to live in a new house, go to new restaurants, work at a new job totally different from the previous one, spend time with new faces who I meet in places I've never been before, and to be in a new relationship after 5 years of being single. New is great and exciting and stimulating but it's fucking exhausting. I feel like I have been swimming for 2 months and I'm ready for some land, the stuff my legs are meant to traverse. I'm not a dolphin. Everything that is even familiar to me is new because it's in a new context. I cut down my old oak tree of a life and now I've got an adorable new sapling-but, Sapling, you look the same today as yesterday and the day before and last week, and you are tiny with few branches, you are not even any good to birds or squirrels yet. You are just a little green stick of potential, and you make me want to take a nap until you are a real tree. I can kinda tell what you're going to look like and what you'll be good for, you're just not even close to there yet.
My hair has been pretty good lately though. But how am I? I don't really know honestly. I haven't had time to catch up with myself. I'm waiting for something to happen, waiting for things to click, and they sort of are but sort of not. Maybe this is what real life is, uncertainty and insecurity. I don't mean self-conscious insecurity, I mean a total lack of security in life, an awareness that nothing is ever really secure; it's only the seemingness of security that gives us comfort. I mean, sometimes I want to scream and cry, what the fuck am I doing??? I don't have a plan and I'm waiting for one to develop in my mind. In the mean time, I focus on eating, sleeping and domestic maintenance, making money, staying afloat, and having some fun once in a while. that's life but it's not what life is about. It's not my story. I don't know what my story is anymore. I'm just here in a darkened theater, after-hours, munching on stolen popcorn and milk duds, too cold and lazy to get up and go, not knowing where I'd go if I were to.
It's fucking exhausting to live in a new house, go to new restaurants, work at a new job totally different from the previous one, spend time with new faces who I meet in places I've never been before, and to be in a new relationship after 5 years of being single. New is great and exciting and stimulating but it's fucking exhausting. I feel like I have been swimming for 2 months and I'm ready for some land, the stuff my legs are meant to traverse. I'm not a dolphin. Everything that is even familiar to me is new because it's in a new context. I cut down my old oak tree of a life and now I've got an adorable new sapling-but, Sapling, you look the same today as yesterday and the day before and last week, and you are tiny with few branches, you are not even any good to birds or squirrels yet. You are just a little green stick of potential, and you make me want to take a nap until you are a real tree. I can kinda tell what you're going to look like and what you'll be good for, you're just not even close to there yet.