November 05, 2011 3:05AM
Full Collapse
I don't feel like writing. I don't feel like addressing the same audience each night, night after night. I'm sick of being nothing but negative and complaining about the same god damn things over and over again. I must come off as such a fucking whiner. There was a time when positive things made it on to these virtual pages, but it feels like so long ago.
I want to write to more people, I want to not feel isolated and alone, even on the internet, this place where millions of people are active and constantly doing things, I feel as if I'm writing into a void. Yes, I know... I know that I have said in the past that the main reason I write is for my own historical purposes, but you know, it would be nice to pique the interest of a few people once and awhile, to have a known readership, for people to use the features I spent so much time integrating into this system I use to write.
People lose interest, I know, I do too.
I felt weird today, and this was due to a pretty terrible night I experience last night. My timing was off, not that I was doing something time sensitive, but I mean, it felt earlier than it was, my perception was fallacious, I felt like a stranger in an unfamiliar place. I felt stupid, embarrassed, I felt regretful, humiliated at my own naivety. I felt like the evening was just beginning and yet the clock said 2am. I stayed up too late last night; I made mistakes and these are things that are much too easy to see the day after, even the few hours afterward. I'm always making pour choices, and yet I can't help it. I've convinced myself to continue doing it, and I will.
My brain is broken and the only time I function is when my mind goes on complete auto-pilot at work. I know how to get through a shift at work without even having to think, without even having to apply myself in any way. I smile and joke and then forget it all as soon as I leave. I wish I knew how to fix things, how to put things in to place, to make things better. I was asked an interesting question, a question I couldn't quite answer. I sat, baffled as to what to say. "When was the last time you were really happy?" I could go in to detail about the story of the past 12 years of my life, but I still don't think I would arrive at an answer, I still don't know where this all started or when it first became a part of my life, a part of my day to day experiences.
Now I know what you're thinking, wow, this is fucking melodramatic and self-absorbed! Well... no shit! Sorry, I just get stuck in my own brain far too often, and I need to let it out, and this works for me... sometimes... maybe. I'm not too sure to be honest, but it has to help, it has to do something, or it wouldn't feel right. I feel like I have to do this, have to capture this, have to explain what I'm feeling, even just to myself.
I slept in very late this morning, and had some interesting dreams. I've been having vivid dreams lately, often containing some form of nightmarish themes, or revisiting older nightmares I used to have in years passed. I awake feeling unsettled, almost immediately beginning my day feeling uneasy and fairly uncomfortable. I wake up and feel as though I'm in someone else's room, house, life. Things don't feel right; I don't feel as though I'm living inside my own routine, I feel like I took over for someone else and I'm unsure of what the next step is. I feel like I don't belong here, I feel like I'm different then everyone else, and all I want is to feel like I share something with someone.
Ah, see? Here I go getting off track again...
I slept in late this morning, but woke up and got out of bed at 11:30am. I didn't need to go to school this Friday because one of my classes was canceled, and I didn't have an assignment due in communications until Monday, so I could actually take an entire day off school, and on top of that, I had the day off work too, so I had an entire day to myself. It is worth noting however, that those kinds of days, days where I have no plans, and have the entire day to myself, are usually some of the worst days I ever have; A recipe for disaster, a lot of time to think, to rethink, to question myself, to over analyze... it's unhealthy.
It was a fairly pathetic day, but I somehow found the strength to push out the negative feelings I had swirling inside of me, and enjoy most of the day. I don't have to go into very specific detail, but the day was generally split up into two different activities: playing Batman: Arkham City and programming the iTunes library analyzer website. Now yes, I'm sure some of you will scoff at both of those activities, but I will respond with two words! Fuck you! Both of those things are things that I enjoy, and you may not understand that, but it takes a lot for me to actually sit and play something and not feel antsy, tired, aggravated or some other negative emotion.
I didn't leave the house today, I barely cooked, was barely active. I should have gone to the grocery store because I work the next three days in a row and won't have time to make it to one probably, and having no food, no comfort food, no breakfast food, these are things that upset me... these are things that lead me to feeling alienated in my body, in my home, in my mind. I should have done the laundry, I should've cleaned the tub, I should've looked outside and let sunlight hit my face. Let sunshine into my eyes and felt warm and felt alive and felt like there was a future.
The night is coming to a close, and I'm yet again up at my bright laptop screen, typing away until I can't keep my eyes open or keep focus through the swirling mud that these sleeping pills turn my brain into. I kind of switch to auto-pilot and that's when my best writing happens... it just spills out on it's own and I don't have anything to do with it. It's an interesting experience to be honest, something that I don't achieve all the time.
I don't really understand why I fight sleep so much, I've been doing it for years, and nothing good comes of it. I know that I have to wake up tomorrow at 10am and go to work, and I know that I know this, because I took a sleeping pill over an hour ago as a means to go to sleep when I had to, but I'm fighting it. It's already 3am and I'm still up, writing, closing my eyes, alternating between each eyelid as they dry out, just so that I can squeeze out a few more words.
I don't like feeling like this, and I do it to myself through various means.
I'll go to bed now, and I will wake up tomorrow tired, and then I'll come home from work and complain about how unenjoyable the day was due to my tiredness... sound good?
1281 words
Timeline
- I lived on Langarth St.
- I worked at Windermere
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