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An update
9 years ago
In case anybody has been wondering where I've been or if I'm okay, here is my personaly diary for the past 2 months. Don't really care who sees this. I type it sporadically when I'm at work. A dash indicates where I had to sign off and take care of work stuff
Here you go
10/05/16
My body is filled with anguish. An undying darkness that flows through me threatens to destroy me. It is heavy, so very heavy. I don't know what to do. There are walls closing in on my nature, and my nature is steadily taking it in, planning on what to do. Soon, it may break out in a certain direction at full speed. I'm concerned about it where it might take me, but looking around I can say that anywhere is better than here. But that thought has gotten me into trouble before.
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I'm probably gonna go to the beach when i get off. I need to get back in touch with Africa.
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I need pills, i need something. why should i need anything? Is there some mass unspoken rule that pills and prescriptions fix everything.
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The value of my life is decreasing. my worth is weightless. so weightless..
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It is indeed odd... almost having an accident, and being regretful afterward. wondering why you know you would've been happier had you been hit. How sweet it would have been to wake up in a cushiony hospital, pumped full of medication, your life in shambles. Maybe its the idea of starting new, maybe its the yearning for something different. Heh, maybe I'm crazy, crazy enough to be suicidal. No, not suicidal. This is something different. There is something so appealing about just giving in to unhealthy urges. Urges that would damage me and everyone around me. I don't know what appeals to it. I wish I could pick myself up and drop myself into somebody else's life. I want to be the source of someone's happiness, but there are so many walls that impede me. My weight, my looks, my personality. Everything impedes me. Its a whisper in the back of my head that speaks to me whenever I question myself like this. "All alone" it whispers to me, reminding me of the bottom line, of the ground floor of my depression. Its the last stop on the line down my daily troubles. People talk about having long term goals and short term goals. I thought that's what I had, but now my list of impedements has begun towering over my pathetic list of goals. So much blocks the path to my happiness, so much that is hard to overcome. Hurdles that are more walls than anything.
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10/06/16
I guess its in youth where the idea of "no regrets" first comes to rear its ugly head. It's easy for anyone upstanding to tie up loose ends with people, but for the dirty its harder. Lost love, most of all, can become a rotting stinking hole in your heart. Knowing you were part of the problem, it can really hurt. I'd give just about anything to retry that whole relatioship with *****. Heh.. even typing the name brings back good memories of yahoo messenger. I could read that name over and over, just to stir up the good feelings. Reading it, I can remember how happy I used to be to see that name pop up on messenger, alerting me that she was online. I can't believe I fucked something good like that up. And boy did i fuck it up big time. I know not every boyfriend is perfect, but was I really so bad? Was I such a terrible fucking boyfriend that she wanted to move to orlando just to get away?
I don't know. I don't know what's happening to her right now. More than likely, she's preparing for the hurricane thats sweeping up the coast. It's going to be passing right through orlando. I know thinking about this stuff is self-defeating. I'm not sure if there's a point to it. Am i digging myself into a hole of depression? I think maybe not, because I actually feel a little better after typing this. Maybe there's some hidden door underneath all of the regret, a door to a realization, something that can help me in life. Something that could catapault me out of here and into something greater. Feff... this isn't some fuckin 80's movie. There's nothing down there except more garbage... maybe...
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today i feel pretty good i guess. its inventory day, so whatever. gonna be here till way into night time. I brought a book to read for the boring parts, of course my choice had to be The Stainless Steel Rat. The fantastic adventures of Slippery Jim DiGriz! How magnificent these stories are, with him thinking 30 steps ahead of everyone else. He is the rat in the world of the future! A master thief!
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Can't really figure out why i'm typing all of this. I think i may bug *** too much with my rambling when *****'s on lunch. This is almost thearoputic (or however the fuck you spell that). I really need to work on losing weight. I'm afraid that my plan of making it a new years resolution thing will fall through. oh well. we'll think about that later, whoever this is.
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I don't think I'll ever date women again. nope, nothing but men for me from here on out. Too many bad experiences left a bad taste in my mouth. But what will my parents think, you ask? They will never know. I will be the hidden lover in the shadows, scorned by the world and having sex with the lights off.
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anguish. was that the source of it? The yearning for a partner? it IS human nature, pure instinct to seek a partner for life. It's in our animal nature, for animals we are. This burning desire to fall asleep with someone in my arms, its almost unbearible. "20 million degrees, burn a man to his knees" as Gambino would say....
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I was right earlier. Talking to myself like this is very helpful. It eases my stress. Hello future self, how's stuff going? I hope good. I hope you found somebody, or maybe you decided it wasn't worth it. I'm glad i'm doing this, talking to myself seems to work better than talking to a shrink or some shit. Lord knows i tried that in the past, and all it ended up being was a waste of fucking money.
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Boy what I wouldn't give to be back at sunset beach. Every time I listen to Africa, I hear it calling me. I hear the salty wind whipping through the dunes, blowing crystalline sand in great flumes. I can hear the steady influx of rushing water crashing into the beach, and the subsequent outflow, draggin across the wet sand, breathing the force of nature back in. I can close my eyes and feel myself walking down the sidewalk on my way to get the newspaper from the island's stores. It was nice and simple back then. Come back with the newspaper, hand it to daddy, maybe have a bowl of cereal before climbing the stairs up to the second story loft where my pull out bed was positioned in front of a tv. Halo 1 and 2 was ready and waiting to be turned on. Sounds. Sounds come to me as I sit there, listening to the wonderful soundtrack. It's still so very fresh in my mind... why is it so fresh in my mind, why can't i get this out?! Its so self-defeating! To have this idea in my mind of pure happiness that I know I will never attain in its purest form ever again, it's fucking torture!
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Time passes and we move on I guess. I have regrets, sure I do. Their number may be few, but even only those few tower high over me.
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With every second that passes, I can feel the looming thought bearing down more and more. Distractions are what I need. Distracitons to keep me from dwelling on something that isn't easily repaired. My id is my enemy, not my ego.
10/10/16
It's weird, I feel uncomfortable no matter how I'm standing or sitting. It may be the lack of nicotine, since I couldn't find my vape this morning. Oh well. Back to work.
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oh yes, anger ensues. If I'm going today without a vape, I might as well go for the long haul. I might as well quite completely.
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there have been several old habits that have been rearing their conjoined heads here recently. Some of them I'm glad to see return, even though I know they're detrimental. Maybe trying a few of them out again might do me some good, put me back in a good mood. Some of them, however... I need to leave far behind me.
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this hole in my heart burns sometimes. it does a lot of things. It bleeds, it burns, it smolders and rots. A jagged crack through my heart that I'm slowly nursing. Instead of trying to fill the hole, I've been trying to ignore the whistle of wind that blows through it and pretend it doesn't exist. I don't have time for anything else. Why should I? Would I deserve to fix it? Would I even want to, given the opportunity? I'm not sure. I don't really know enough about my heart to say. It has always been a dark unconquerable cloud of ambiguity, and I've never been able to see completely through it. Well maybe sunlight will shine through that hole and make all of this pain worth it in the end. But ah there's the uncertainty. What if I wait for it to all be worth, and it turns out I was wrong and should have acted alone all this time. I'm scared of the answer, because I know I'll be wrong.
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I treasure my friends so very dearly. Nobody understands, everyone is surprised when I go out of my way to help somebody. I wonder if maybe they had it easier growing up, maybe they had friends and pals and buddies and its weird to them for me to care about my friends so much. Even Albert thinks its weird sometimes. I caught him making a comment about how "its not like we're married". I don't know how I feel about that. Hurt, maybe. No clue. Not gonna speculate on it now. Its just hard for me to understand how someone thinks helping your friends could be a bad thing. I mean, i can understand how someone can become dependant, but It's not like I'm tying everybody's shoes and brushing their teeth for them. I'm genuinly helping people when I can, doing what I can to make sure everyone stays afloat in this big modern sea. Is that so bad?
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I'm handling this nicotine deficiency pretty good right now. I'm just a little twitchy.
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I need to find something else to keep myself busy in the evening
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Maybe get into webcomics
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There is a burning source to this depression and self-questioning. It's somewhere down there, and I'm desperately peering into the depths to find it. The abyss is deep and murky, but down there somewhere is a light of a burning fire. An ambition waiting to break free and surge towards a predetermined goal. Should I unleash this fire, or should I keep it buried? I think maybe it's hurting me because its buried so far down. I feel like I'm trapped underneath so much weight, coiled and curled up underneath a mobbish ocean of... adulthood? I'm not sure. There is something on top of me, holding me down, thats for sure. But what is it? What on earth is it? The lack of love? Maybe... maybe its the oppressive thumb of modern civilization. There are worries that exist in my mind now that weren't there before. They clog my thoughts, force my hand in situations where I would otherwise lean another way. My image is one of frugality and selfishness. But really all I want is to make everyone happy. Why is it such a bad thing to include myself in that? Why can't I get the things that make me happy, instead of finding those things for everyone else? I can't just sit back while someone else's life falls to shit, when I know that I could have done something to prevent it.
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Sometimes I feel very miniscule, very minute. I feel tiny around other people, like my opinion is hot air that populates the room. People wave it away until I have something completely devastating or life-changing to say. More often than not, people are listening and waiting to reply... but that's all they're doing. I can tell by the tone of voice when someone is waiting for me to finish. When they start talking, I can hear the unspoken words behind it that paint a picture of relief, relief that I am done talking and now they can resume their normal conversation, finally able to provide their point. I went to Darrin about it one time. I asked him if I was a quiet person, if people didn't like my opinion. It had happened during a conversation that I thought I was a part of. When it came time to provide my opinion, I was talked over (not cut off). My voice was a white noise to them, distant and unimportant. It has happened several times since, and each time it happens it feels like a stabbing blow to my self-esteem and sense of self worth. I can feel it wilt away a little more as my opinion is proven so unimportant that people flat out ignore me. Not my current opinion only, either, for why would they cut me off if only to end a long string of annoying babble so they can finally resume their conversation. No one just flat out decides they're going to ignore somebody. It comes after a torrent of annoyance and frustration, until finally they get sick enough of my voice that they decide it is nothing but background noise. And why should they be at fault if everyone follows suit? A group learns and executes cooperative mass acceptance of a fact, and the fact is that I am not important.
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10/11/16
I'm feeling more energetic and eager to do stuff. I know something cool is going to come from feeling like this. I know for a fact that it's because of these sessions.
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Every day I think about *****. I think about it at least once every fucking day. Something reminds me of it every fucking day. Today it was Jukebox Hero coming on the radio. I remember coming back from *****'s aunt's house, driving through the construction zone on the bridge to p-cola. It was night time, and this song came on and we both sang it together. We both rocked out hard while having a wonderful evening. There was never an awkward silence between us. Maybe i'm just remembering this all through a gilded film. I can't really be sure, for some reason my memory isn't as strong as it used to be for this time frame.
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There is so much out there that is bigger than me, people that are bigger than me. There is so much out there that is more important than i am. There are so many people that are more deserving of happiness than me. Its why I work hard to keep everyone else happy. I don't really care about myself that much, however little it shows. Its so hard for me to describe this feeling I have about myself. My own happiness is so very very unimportant to me. I choose to live through other people. Should I change that about myself? I'm not sure. I know that if i type and speculate long enough, the descriptions will become longer and the true nature of what I'm trying to explain will reveal itself. I used to hate myself. I still hate myself. I used to think I was nothing. I am still nothing. I am nothing compared to this world. I am a spec of dust in this universe, drifting aimlessly. There are people that are so much more important than I am. Do I have a purpose? I feel that saying NO would be like giving up on my dreams. But what are those dreams but flashes of glory in my head, delusions of some higher function for my life. My fire is burning for others, not myself. Is it so selfish to help other people, when I myself am so very very small? It would be selfish for me to only shape my world for myself. Going through this life alone, that's selfish. Living for yourself, that's selfish. With this tiny tiny life of mine, i understand that it is selfish to let anything other than pure tragedy get me off guard. I refuse to worry or care about anything other than life-changing things. I will promise to fly head first into life and keep at it until I am nothing but a spent cartridge, at which point I will retire to my bed and recharge for the next day. With this tiny tiny life, it is selfish to stay here any longer than a year. It is selfish to be trapped down here. I refuse to hide this fire away and burn it in private on drugs and selfindulgence with alcohol. I will indulge myself with other things, things that are outward and amazing. I want to burn brighter than the hottest star, rock the currents of the oceans to and fro, glaze the surface of the moon for a split second, and then come rocketing back down into death. I will say yes when I want to say No. I will run when I only want to walk. I will unshackle myself from the prison I have built. I will free myself from duty, and become so very bright.
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I think I'm going to start volunteering more.
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one of the few people in my life that gives me the bittersweet advice i need has given me even more. ***** *****, you are always a voice of reason. He agrees that I need to get out. I need to get the fuck out. Wanderlust is what I've got, baby, and it's gonna take me to the stars.
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There it was. The epiphany I was waiting for. The shit beneath the gold. ******* was right. Fuckin ******* was right. I've got to get the fuck out of here this instant. ASAP. No waiting. Must get out. The world is so magnificent, that to tie myself down for 40 years would be mental suicide. Its an abomination of a lifestyle choice to get bogged down and sit forever. No sir, not me. Fuck all that. I have been renewed with new vigor. I have been given a reason to give everything my all. Why shouldn't I? That's the question that fuels every decision I make now. "What are the consequences?"
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It was restlessness all along that was fucking me up. Hard to believe it was something so simple. Too many bad memories reside in this area of the earth.
10/19/16
So... we have this realization that has come about, we have these plans forming around it, and we have this soft sense of relief to add along with it. There are only a few stepping stones still yet to be laid in front of me. I forsee their consecration with bittersweet eagerness. One, I need to find a job up there. Two, I need to deal with my family ties down here. Three, I need to save money. Apart from those few things, there remains the nagging claws of all my emotions concerning love. They pull and pull, but I refuse to give in to the imminent depression it keeps attemping to drill into me. I wonder how I'm gonna fix this.
10/20/16
Whenever I listen to oldies songs that speak to me, Like boys of summer, i'm transported to a seperate world where the beginning and end is that of the song. That is my lifespan in this moment listening to it. This giant enigma of short-lived aspirations, regrets, and memories, is so more inviting than actual reality. I would love to bury myself in that world, become engrossed in the time. I think it comes from watching too many music videos, while at the same time not experiencing the outside world enough. This probably happened when I was young. I became more preoccupied with the realities that each song presented, that the one constant of actual reality became more fantasy than anything, and i happily pushed it away. It seems that in my youth, music was more able to soothe me than actual human interaction, so I never went out and experienced anything. Maybe my emotions were on par with that of the people in the music, and i empathized with them so much that i became obsessed with it. These songs are their own seperate worlds, they have a beginning and an end. I am drawn to the feeling of absolution that comes with the ending of a song. I feel like once the song ends, my life will finally be over, and the credits will roll, and it will be so very sweet.
10/21/16
***** asked me if I was depressed this morning, because I sounded down. Originally, no, but now I don't know. I guess it's just because its really slow right now, I just don't feel like talking much or contributing much to conversations. I really need to get out more.
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Do I love you, *****? Do I? Don't I? Love is nothing but a chemical reaction, this is true. It's nothing but simple science. But then again, isn't anything else? Rainbows, sunrises, beautifully intricate machinery. It can all be boiled down to simple science. So whether or not it's "true love" is not the issue, because every love is true, according to science. There is a physical reaction in the brain, chemicals are circulated, emotions are simulated, and brash decisions are more easily made. The mind and body is affected. I came so close to dropping you completely, so effortlessly. All I did was ignore you. Was that the answer? Of course not. So now we are switched again. I love it. I can't get enough of it. But that may be my downfall. We are in love in unreality only. In the virtual space. I don't even know what you look like, my lovely wolf. I'm sure I am not a lot to write home about. We are engrossed so wholey in this unreality that we would never possibly love eachother in real life. You and I are among the broken. It's hard to describe, but you and I have become so engrossed in the internet culture, with all of its perfect bodies and sculpted figures, that our perception of beauty has been warped beyond recognition. If only I could overcome that hurdle and learn to love the real you. But will I actually love the real you? I don't know. That's what I'm afraid of. All I know, is that I love you in this moment, and that should be enough for now... hopefully...
10/24/16
How comfortable unreality has gotten. I call it the Fear and Loathing syndrome. When you submerge yourself in drugs and drink, you become so attached to it that it starts to feel like home, and damn does it feel like home. Mmm baby....
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I kinda want to get drunk tonight, but I have no money. I must get drunk, that other stuff felt so good. I have to remember that the perfect drunk is the combination of beer and liquor. I must engorge myself on that and good smoke. I would loooooove that. Omg. I need to put a list together of a few household things I need. Soap, paper towels and such. What I wouldn't give to be in a saturday evening on the porch with a drink in my hand and a cigar in my mouth. Man that would be so relaxing.
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A gnawing and mashing of teeth. An unstoppable force of anger. Vibrant dark shades of voilent purple flash around me, soaring in all directions. I need release. Obliteration. I want every disgusting hunk of flesh and meat to be torn viciously from my bone, my eyes and face peeled back by the awesome heat of the unfeeling white void. I crave absolution, crave it so deeply. It's a hunger deeper than my deepest emotions. A hunger for raw unending rage, to destroy until there is nothing left to destroy. I feel locked in this prison around my mind, and an animal is waiting to fight and claw its way out, or die trying.
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When was the last time you felt passionate about something. When was the last time you had something you'd give your life for?
10/25/16
I sometimes wonder why I'm still typing in here, but then I quickly remind myself that stopping this was a bad idea. Why shouldn't I continue this quest? It is all in my best interest, and sometimes this is the only thing I can do to stop the abhorrent screaming that is constantly occupying my mind. I wonder if medication would help. I think not. Really what I am forseeing is a slow but apparant change in my habits. No smoking, yes drinking, no cigs, yes cigars, less masturbation, more augmentation. My life needs to be changed. My habits need to be changed. My whole setting needs to be changed, and that means making sacrifices. I must construct a cultivating environment for my mind. Living is such an aggrevation. It's operating with a constant nagging madness that threatens to devour me whole. I sense on the fringes of my mind, a darkness. It is there, it has been there since I started maturing. It grows and feeds on my insecurities, growing stronger and more powerful with every shot my self-esteem takes. It is engulfing my reasoning and decision-making, and soon it will devour me whole. I feel, however, that there is a weapon to fight it. There is something locked deep in my brain that can fight it back, and that one thing is something I must think of in repetition. I must remind myself over and over that in order to fight this maniacal darkness I must travel and experience everything. Over and over.
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Can anybody find me someone to love. Find me somebody to love. Please, not just anybody. Please, let it be somebody. Somebody to love. I need somebody to love. I feel like the love i have to give is being wasted on nothingness. I'm pouring this multicolored, viscous substance straight into the garbage. It's like I build up more of it, and have to keep dumping it because it isn't used in time, and it expires. Instead of pouring my love into a relationship, I'm dumping it down the drain. It flows into the ocean and becomes inert and useless. I guess I should just keep dumping it when it gets too full, because it doesn't belong to anyone, and I certainly do not have a use for it. Not yet.
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The urge to destory is everpresent. I know it's only my raw emotion searching for an outlet, but damn would it feel good to destroy some shit. Need to find a way to satisfy this red hunger.
10/26/16
Obscenity! Anger and frustration engorging my mind! So much aggrevation!
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Keep your cool man, just relax. Breath breath. No whammy's. Do that thing you normally do to control your anger, and do it right now. Ok I will. There we go. It didn't help much, but I'll take whatever help I can get. It's not fun to be made a joke in front of your customers. I feel so small, so very inadequate. It's a pretty terrible feeling. Kinda feel like going to the beach again.
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All this shoddy half-assed pop music doesn't make living any easier. It's like living in a world of fucking sheep. God....
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Overanalyze everything. Judge everyone. Expect dissapointment. Live in anguish. Thrive in anger.
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Don't worry, you'll get to it eventually. And when is eventually? When everything is done? It will never all be done. You've got to learn to work as an organzied mess, you know this. Why have you become so stupid since last we spoke, Brian? A wreck of a human being. This is what I am. I have come to accept this. But what can I do about it? Not much right now. Quit cigs, get a better job, pursue what I truly desire, make a name for myself. None of these are easily accomplished. I need to add weightloss to that list. Pff like that's ever going to happen. I'm going to stay a fat ugly fuck for the rest of my life. Curse my sedentary life-style! Why oh why do I detest exercise?
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I'm tired. So very tired of being alive. I need peace, soft everlasting peace. Something I can feel, not death per se. It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I blessed the rains down in africa, gonna take some time to do the things we never ever had. Hurry boy she's waiting there for you. I miss you, to the point of tears. I miss you so very much. It's a hole in my heart that burns and bleeds with everlasting pain. I yearn for your embrace, and every second without you is an eternity of immeasurable anguish. Yet, who are you? I don't even know who you are.... Yet... you are gone, gone with that place and every happy memory I had there along with it. I never wanted this, and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, can you ever forgive me?
10/27/16
So I guess I have to take care of the dogs this weekend. Oh well, that will give me a chance to find and download my facebook videos. I have to remember to do that. This will be one of my only opportunities to do it.
11/1/16
Went through and cleaned up my desktop. It made me feel a little bit better, not that I'm looking to improve my mood today. I feel pretty good for an afternoon. The time has been ticking away, unnoticed by me, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I found several good song ideas in these folders that I may want to bring home with me. I really really really want another laptop, something good. I get so tired of not being able to type like this at home.
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Now you ignore me, a switch of circumstances as it seems. I can't say I don't deserve it. I deserve every cold shoulder you give me. I can only hope to find some ladder out of this dark hole of unfulfilled romantic endeavors. Nothing would make me happier than some firm ground to stand on for a change.
11/2/16
Type type type. All I do is type and talk to you. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. Everything hurts. I'm restless, agitated, and aggrevated. You can only bottle up emotion for so long before it bursts forth triumphantly. I wonder if my hair only grows to a certain length and then just falls out. Why can't it grow longer? I wish I had long flowing hair, then maybe I wouldn't be completely ugly. Ah and there's that low self-confidence again. Will I ever believe in myself? "Believe in the me that believes in you". I'm so very tired of being alive. So very tired of living in the south. Just completely tired of everything altogether. I'm exhausted by everything. Maybe its because I'm a little overweight. Now, see brian how most of your problems come back to that. You would probably feel pretty good right now if you were an average build. But no, you have to procrastinate and shirk your exercise.
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I think about you every day. You... such a broad encompassing term. You.. you failures. You dark shadows of past failures. I miss you so much. You... who are you? Just a memory that I replay with a golden film? Yes. Yes you are. You are gone to me now, and will remain that way forever. I know this. But the tiny happiness I can squeeze from your memory is worth the torture of remembering you every day. False happiness it may be, but i will take happiness in any form. Its so very damaging to me. Yet I dwell on you, I expand the spectrum of our relationship out in front of me and pick out the pieces of happiness scattered throughout like golden flakes in the stream. I ignore the black smudges of my shortcomings, my arguements with you, my problems... I focus on you... on that smile, that smile that hid behind it pure wonder... pure happiness. I think about those eyes, oh how they rolled at my jocular personality! I think about that long flowing hair, scented with the perfume of angels, soft and silky to the touch. I think about your full cheeks that reddened ever so lightly at my every compliment. I have this image of us in my head, sitting on the bench outside of Oyster House, holding eachother tight. I had you then, and you had me. The picture we took was framed, displayed, and then turned down as I fell away from you. But that picture... I see my own happiness in it, I see my genuine happiness. It wasn't drug induced, it didn't boil up in response to a joke, I was happy just to be with you.. just to be alive. I was happy to have something to pour my heart into. You were my everything, and then my nothing. Strange how something so magnificent and glowing can fill your entire body to bursting. Strange how it can vacuumed out so thoroughly, taking something of yours with it.. Taking pieces of you with it, burning a heavy hole in the place that matters most. It's strange how something that only lasted a year can leave you defeated for years after. Defeated, destroyed, desicrated, demoralized, demonized, dismantled, defaced, derailed, detached, demolished, drained, divided, done.
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My body aches with frustration, and I realize that maybe I should start running again. Maybe that can solve some things.
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You know there's something wrong when your idea of relaxation is sitting in your car and screaming until your vocal chords give out. I need to go on break and do that. Maybe being hungover has something to do with it.
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I'm jittery, really jittery. I need to calm the fuck down. I can barely type. My hands are shaking, I'm losing it. Just gotta keep myself busy so I can operate efficiently.
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You have impaired me. I want you to know this. I want you to know that this relationship has ruined love for me. You of number. You of many faces. You have destroyed my idea of love as being anything other than an burden. Knowledge is such a burden, as is stress and worry. You have imparted unto me an inset expectation of failure. You have broken me. No relationship I ever have will ever be pure ever again. Not until the memory of you is wiped clean. It must be scrubbed, cleansed, polished, bleached into oblivion. Maybe then... Maybe then I may find peace.
11/06/16
This place we've built for ourselves... a cradle of aggrevation for you, and a monument of freedom for me. You have been thrust into this world as a broken individual. How far have you fallen... How plagued with grief and self-pity you have become. You despair, as I observe. Fortune favors our lives, and only our lives. No material nor idea shall it give us freely. This you must understand. You have fought against the current your whole life. Will you ever reach the shore? Sometimes I wonder... sometimes I hope. Will you encounter peace, or the furious destruction of your ideals? Time can only tell.
11/07/16
Such a terrible depression threatens to absorb me. I must fight it with all my heart.
11/08/16
We're approaching this boiling point for emotion, and I don't know what to do to make it stop...
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"Last night I dreamt I'd forgotten my name cause I sold my soul, but I walked just the same. I'm so tired."
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I've rolled myself into a ball of emotion with all of this negativity. I have successfully defeated myself with regret, slashed and lain barren my flesh to the cosmos. The black coldness of loneliness consumes my heart, and I weep. God... please save me... I beg you. Dear jesus won't you please pierce this eternal void and shine brilliantly upon my fetal form. Bring unto me happiness, I beg of you. I want somebody to love, but I do not deserve it. Therefore, please bring me happiness, bring me absolution. I look to the emptiness in my life and take solace in the fact that at least God loves me. That is someone to love.
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Certain parts of me are being pushed to the extreme. I'm reaching farther with my arms, outstretching my fingers, pushing my joints to the limit because I am anxious for carnage. I crave destruction and voilent outbursts. I am becoming something of a monster. Perhaps exercise will help.
11/15/16
It feels like i despise everyone around me, which I almost do. I hate and hate and hate, feeling it overtake me so easily because it feels so good. It's almost like a climax. I hate and hate and keep hating until finally it explodes into violence. How great that would feel.
-
I'm so sick and fucking tired of this place man. What am I tired of... I'm tired of being angry, of having just-below-the-surface rage. It's all there, ready to explode at all times. I'm tired of having to control it, and I'm tired of being too sluggish to deal with the rage. There's no outlet. I need to keep running, just keep fucking running. I need to just run until I can't run anymore, and then start walking back. That seems like a great fucking idea. I need to start running and not stop until I'm all through. Too bad today I'm going to go get my oil changed instead of being able to run. Oh well.
-
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
-
It's so queer how you can feel alive but not at the same time. Like I know I'm here, that this is my body, and that I am alive. But I do not feel here, I do not feel that this body is the right fit, and I feel completely dead inside.
11/17/16
******'s depression... does it hold substance? I wonder this day and night. It worries me. Sometimes I think that he may be better off moving back to Augusta. He doesn't strive to do better.
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I wonder if you realize how much you bring me down. Why can't you see this? Why can't you see that if you killed yourself, you would destroy me completely, you would destroy everything around you. Why can't you see that you mean so much to me. Why can you only think of yourself, you selfish asshole. Why can't you realize that your bad mood cancels out my good mood for the whole day. You turned the evening into a dragging monotony of trying to get home. I hope you know and understand this.
-
Whenever you think it is the right time to speak, it'll be the wrong time to speak. Whenever you think you are through being awkward, you will be proven wrong. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn my inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only i will remain.
-
I must become efficient at tuning people out. I must ignore all negativity.
11/22/16
I just wish I was high up in a single empty apartment somewhere in Japan. It's evening, it's raining, and I step out into the staircase to smoke a cigarette. The tall buildings around me are shrouded in the fog of rain. It's nice and peaceful, with the falling rain sound filling the air with white noise. Below, the streets are muddy with people, flipping up their trenchcoat collars and pulling their hats down. I would love to just be by myself in that regard, completely alone. I step back into hall and walk down to my apartment door. Inside, my single room is small and comfortable. It compels me to spend most of my time outside. What I wouldn't give to be a free-roamer, walking to my destination where-ever it may be. The rain has cleared, and night is strong this far up. 30 stories in the air.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
11/30/16
Fuck you stupid self! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! Do not open your mouth for stupid shit like that! God how can you be so fucking stupid!
12/01/16
So sick and fucking tired of being here, of being trapped in this chair behind this computer. I'm so sick of computers, of people. I need to get out. I look away from the screen, and it still feels like my vision is trapped by the screen. It's forced to feel narrow and straight forward.
12/06/16
Finally calmed down after that incident this morning. Am I ever gonna quit smoking? I wonder...
-
Well, after reading through this whole thing again, I feel it is time to put it up somewhere. Not sure why, maybe someone will read it and it will help them. Maybe it'll make me feel better. Not sure, but I can't keep all of this to myself. So here you go.
Here you go
10/05/16
My body is filled with anguish. An undying darkness that flows through me threatens to destroy me. It is heavy, so very heavy. I don't know what to do. There are walls closing in on my nature, and my nature is steadily taking it in, planning on what to do. Soon, it may break out in a certain direction at full speed. I'm concerned about it where it might take me, but looking around I can say that anywhere is better than here. But that thought has gotten me into trouble before.
-
I'm probably gonna go to the beach when i get off. I need to get back in touch with Africa.
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I need pills, i need something. why should i need anything? Is there some mass unspoken rule that pills and prescriptions fix everything.
-
The value of my life is decreasing. my worth is weightless. so weightless..
-
It is indeed odd... almost having an accident, and being regretful afterward. wondering why you know you would've been happier had you been hit. How sweet it would have been to wake up in a cushiony hospital, pumped full of medication, your life in shambles. Maybe its the idea of starting new, maybe its the yearning for something different. Heh, maybe I'm crazy, crazy enough to be suicidal. No, not suicidal. This is something different. There is something so appealing about just giving in to unhealthy urges. Urges that would damage me and everyone around me. I don't know what appeals to it. I wish I could pick myself up and drop myself into somebody else's life. I want to be the source of someone's happiness, but there are so many walls that impede me. My weight, my looks, my personality. Everything impedes me. Its a whisper in the back of my head that speaks to me whenever I question myself like this. "All alone" it whispers to me, reminding me of the bottom line, of the ground floor of my depression. Its the last stop on the line down my daily troubles. People talk about having long term goals and short term goals. I thought that's what I had, but now my list of impedements has begun towering over my pathetic list of goals. So much blocks the path to my happiness, so much that is hard to overcome. Hurdles that are more walls than anything.
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10/06/16
I guess its in youth where the idea of "no regrets" first comes to rear its ugly head. It's easy for anyone upstanding to tie up loose ends with people, but for the dirty its harder. Lost love, most of all, can become a rotting stinking hole in your heart. Knowing you were part of the problem, it can really hurt. I'd give just about anything to retry that whole relatioship with *****. Heh.. even typing the name brings back good memories of yahoo messenger. I could read that name over and over, just to stir up the good feelings. Reading it, I can remember how happy I used to be to see that name pop up on messenger, alerting me that she was online. I can't believe I fucked something good like that up. And boy did i fuck it up big time. I know not every boyfriend is perfect, but was I really so bad? Was I such a terrible fucking boyfriend that she wanted to move to orlando just to get away?
I don't know. I don't know what's happening to her right now. More than likely, she's preparing for the hurricane thats sweeping up the coast. It's going to be passing right through orlando. I know thinking about this stuff is self-defeating. I'm not sure if there's a point to it. Am i digging myself into a hole of depression? I think maybe not, because I actually feel a little better after typing this. Maybe there's some hidden door underneath all of the regret, a door to a realization, something that can help me in life. Something that could catapault me out of here and into something greater. Feff... this isn't some fuckin 80's movie. There's nothing down there except more garbage... maybe...
-
today i feel pretty good i guess. its inventory day, so whatever. gonna be here till way into night time. I brought a book to read for the boring parts, of course my choice had to be The Stainless Steel Rat. The fantastic adventures of Slippery Jim DiGriz! How magnificent these stories are, with him thinking 30 steps ahead of everyone else. He is the rat in the world of the future! A master thief!
-
Can't really figure out why i'm typing all of this. I think i may bug *** too much with my rambling when *****'s on lunch. This is almost thearoputic (or however the fuck you spell that). I really need to work on losing weight. I'm afraid that my plan of making it a new years resolution thing will fall through. oh well. we'll think about that later, whoever this is.
-
I don't think I'll ever date women again. nope, nothing but men for me from here on out. Too many bad experiences left a bad taste in my mouth. But what will my parents think, you ask? They will never know. I will be the hidden lover in the shadows, scorned by the world and having sex with the lights off.
-
anguish. was that the source of it? The yearning for a partner? it IS human nature, pure instinct to seek a partner for life. It's in our animal nature, for animals we are. This burning desire to fall asleep with someone in my arms, its almost unbearible. "20 million degrees, burn a man to his knees" as Gambino would say....
-
I was right earlier. Talking to myself like this is very helpful. It eases my stress. Hello future self, how's stuff going? I hope good. I hope you found somebody, or maybe you decided it wasn't worth it. I'm glad i'm doing this, talking to myself seems to work better than talking to a shrink or some shit. Lord knows i tried that in the past, and all it ended up being was a waste of fucking money.
-
Boy what I wouldn't give to be back at sunset beach. Every time I listen to Africa, I hear it calling me. I hear the salty wind whipping through the dunes, blowing crystalline sand in great flumes. I can hear the steady influx of rushing water crashing into the beach, and the subsequent outflow, draggin across the wet sand, breathing the force of nature back in. I can close my eyes and feel myself walking down the sidewalk on my way to get the newspaper from the island's stores. It was nice and simple back then. Come back with the newspaper, hand it to daddy, maybe have a bowl of cereal before climbing the stairs up to the second story loft where my pull out bed was positioned in front of a tv. Halo 1 and 2 was ready and waiting to be turned on. Sounds. Sounds come to me as I sit there, listening to the wonderful soundtrack. It's still so very fresh in my mind... why is it so fresh in my mind, why can't i get this out?! Its so self-defeating! To have this idea in my mind of pure happiness that I know I will never attain in its purest form ever again, it's fucking torture!
-
Time passes and we move on I guess. I have regrets, sure I do. Their number may be few, but even only those few tower high over me.
-
With every second that passes, I can feel the looming thought bearing down more and more. Distractions are what I need. Distracitons to keep me from dwelling on something that isn't easily repaired. My id is my enemy, not my ego.
10/10/16
It's weird, I feel uncomfortable no matter how I'm standing or sitting. It may be the lack of nicotine, since I couldn't find my vape this morning. Oh well. Back to work.
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oh yes, anger ensues. If I'm going today without a vape, I might as well go for the long haul. I might as well quite completely.
-
there have been several old habits that have been rearing their conjoined heads here recently. Some of them I'm glad to see return, even though I know they're detrimental. Maybe trying a few of them out again might do me some good, put me back in a good mood. Some of them, however... I need to leave far behind me.
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this hole in my heart burns sometimes. it does a lot of things. It bleeds, it burns, it smolders and rots. A jagged crack through my heart that I'm slowly nursing. Instead of trying to fill the hole, I've been trying to ignore the whistle of wind that blows through it and pretend it doesn't exist. I don't have time for anything else. Why should I? Would I deserve to fix it? Would I even want to, given the opportunity? I'm not sure. I don't really know enough about my heart to say. It has always been a dark unconquerable cloud of ambiguity, and I've never been able to see completely through it. Well maybe sunlight will shine through that hole and make all of this pain worth it in the end. But ah there's the uncertainty. What if I wait for it to all be worth, and it turns out I was wrong and should have acted alone all this time. I'm scared of the answer, because I know I'll be wrong.
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I treasure my friends so very dearly. Nobody understands, everyone is surprised when I go out of my way to help somebody. I wonder if maybe they had it easier growing up, maybe they had friends and pals and buddies and its weird to them for me to care about my friends so much. Even Albert thinks its weird sometimes. I caught him making a comment about how "its not like we're married". I don't know how I feel about that. Hurt, maybe. No clue. Not gonna speculate on it now. Its just hard for me to understand how someone thinks helping your friends could be a bad thing. I mean, i can understand how someone can become dependant, but It's not like I'm tying everybody's shoes and brushing their teeth for them. I'm genuinly helping people when I can, doing what I can to make sure everyone stays afloat in this big modern sea. Is that so bad?
-
I'm handling this nicotine deficiency pretty good right now. I'm just a little twitchy.
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I need to find something else to keep myself busy in the evening
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Maybe get into webcomics
-
There is a burning source to this depression and self-questioning. It's somewhere down there, and I'm desperately peering into the depths to find it. The abyss is deep and murky, but down there somewhere is a light of a burning fire. An ambition waiting to break free and surge towards a predetermined goal. Should I unleash this fire, or should I keep it buried? I think maybe it's hurting me because its buried so far down. I feel like I'm trapped underneath so much weight, coiled and curled up underneath a mobbish ocean of... adulthood? I'm not sure. There is something on top of me, holding me down, thats for sure. But what is it? What on earth is it? The lack of love? Maybe... maybe its the oppressive thumb of modern civilization. There are worries that exist in my mind now that weren't there before. They clog my thoughts, force my hand in situations where I would otherwise lean another way. My image is one of frugality and selfishness. But really all I want is to make everyone happy. Why is it such a bad thing to include myself in that? Why can't I get the things that make me happy, instead of finding those things for everyone else? I can't just sit back while someone else's life falls to shit, when I know that I could have done something to prevent it.
-
Sometimes I feel very miniscule, very minute. I feel tiny around other people, like my opinion is hot air that populates the room. People wave it away until I have something completely devastating or life-changing to say. More often than not, people are listening and waiting to reply... but that's all they're doing. I can tell by the tone of voice when someone is waiting for me to finish. When they start talking, I can hear the unspoken words behind it that paint a picture of relief, relief that I am done talking and now they can resume their normal conversation, finally able to provide their point. I went to Darrin about it one time. I asked him if I was a quiet person, if people didn't like my opinion. It had happened during a conversation that I thought I was a part of. When it came time to provide my opinion, I was talked over (not cut off). My voice was a white noise to them, distant and unimportant. It has happened several times since, and each time it happens it feels like a stabbing blow to my self-esteem and sense of self worth. I can feel it wilt away a little more as my opinion is proven so unimportant that people flat out ignore me. Not my current opinion only, either, for why would they cut me off if only to end a long string of annoying babble so they can finally resume their conversation. No one just flat out decides they're going to ignore somebody. It comes after a torrent of annoyance and frustration, until finally they get sick enough of my voice that they decide it is nothing but background noise. And why should they be at fault if everyone follows suit? A group learns and executes cooperative mass acceptance of a fact, and the fact is that I am not important.
-
10/11/16
I'm feeling more energetic and eager to do stuff. I know something cool is going to come from feeling like this. I know for a fact that it's because of these sessions.
-
Every day I think about *****. I think about it at least once every fucking day. Something reminds me of it every fucking day. Today it was Jukebox Hero coming on the radio. I remember coming back from *****'s aunt's house, driving through the construction zone on the bridge to p-cola. It was night time, and this song came on and we both sang it together. We both rocked out hard while having a wonderful evening. There was never an awkward silence between us. Maybe i'm just remembering this all through a gilded film. I can't really be sure, for some reason my memory isn't as strong as it used to be for this time frame.
-
There is so much out there that is bigger than me, people that are bigger than me. There is so much out there that is more important than i am. There are so many people that are more deserving of happiness than me. Its why I work hard to keep everyone else happy. I don't really care about myself that much, however little it shows. Its so hard for me to describe this feeling I have about myself. My own happiness is so very very unimportant to me. I choose to live through other people. Should I change that about myself? I'm not sure. I know that if i type and speculate long enough, the descriptions will become longer and the true nature of what I'm trying to explain will reveal itself. I used to hate myself. I still hate myself. I used to think I was nothing. I am still nothing. I am nothing compared to this world. I am a spec of dust in this universe, drifting aimlessly. There are people that are so much more important than I am. Do I have a purpose? I feel that saying NO would be like giving up on my dreams. But what are those dreams but flashes of glory in my head, delusions of some higher function for my life. My fire is burning for others, not myself. Is it so selfish to help other people, when I myself am so very very small? It would be selfish for me to only shape my world for myself. Going through this life alone, that's selfish. Living for yourself, that's selfish. With this tiny tiny life of mine, i understand that it is selfish to let anything other than pure tragedy get me off guard. I refuse to worry or care about anything other than life-changing things. I will promise to fly head first into life and keep at it until I am nothing but a spent cartridge, at which point I will retire to my bed and recharge for the next day. With this tiny tiny life, it is selfish to stay here any longer than a year. It is selfish to be trapped down here. I refuse to hide this fire away and burn it in private on drugs and selfindulgence with alcohol. I will indulge myself with other things, things that are outward and amazing. I want to burn brighter than the hottest star, rock the currents of the oceans to and fro, glaze the surface of the moon for a split second, and then come rocketing back down into death. I will say yes when I want to say No. I will run when I only want to walk. I will unshackle myself from the prison I have built. I will free myself from duty, and become so very bright.
-
I think I'm going to start volunteering more.
-
one of the few people in my life that gives me the bittersweet advice i need has given me even more. ***** *****, you are always a voice of reason. He agrees that I need to get out. I need to get the fuck out. Wanderlust is what I've got, baby, and it's gonna take me to the stars.
-
There it was. The epiphany I was waiting for. The shit beneath the gold. ******* was right. Fuckin ******* was right. I've got to get the fuck out of here this instant. ASAP. No waiting. Must get out. The world is so magnificent, that to tie myself down for 40 years would be mental suicide. Its an abomination of a lifestyle choice to get bogged down and sit forever. No sir, not me. Fuck all that. I have been renewed with new vigor. I have been given a reason to give everything my all. Why shouldn't I? That's the question that fuels every decision I make now. "What are the consequences?"
-
It was restlessness all along that was fucking me up. Hard to believe it was something so simple. Too many bad memories reside in this area of the earth.
10/19/16
So... we have this realization that has come about, we have these plans forming around it, and we have this soft sense of relief to add along with it. There are only a few stepping stones still yet to be laid in front of me. I forsee their consecration with bittersweet eagerness. One, I need to find a job up there. Two, I need to deal with my family ties down here. Three, I need to save money. Apart from those few things, there remains the nagging claws of all my emotions concerning love. They pull and pull, but I refuse to give in to the imminent depression it keeps attemping to drill into me. I wonder how I'm gonna fix this.
10/20/16
Whenever I listen to oldies songs that speak to me, Like boys of summer, i'm transported to a seperate world where the beginning and end is that of the song. That is my lifespan in this moment listening to it. This giant enigma of short-lived aspirations, regrets, and memories, is so more inviting than actual reality. I would love to bury myself in that world, become engrossed in the time. I think it comes from watching too many music videos, while at the same time not experiencing the outside world enough. This probably happened when I was young. I became more preoccupied with the realities that each song presented, that the one constant of actual reality became more fantasy than anything, and i happily pushed it away. It seems that in my youth, music was more able to soothe me than actual human interaction, so I never went out and experienced anything. Maybe my emotions were on par with that of the people in the music, and i empathized with them so much that i became obsessed with it. These songs are their own seperate worlds, they have a beginning and an end. I am drawn to the feeling of absolution that comes with the ending of a song. I feel like once the song ends, my life will finally be over, and the credits will roll, and it will be so very sweet.
10/21/16
***** asked me if I was depressed this morning, because I sounded down. Originally, no, but now I don't know. I guess it's just because its really slow right now, I just don't feel like talking much or contributing much to conversations. I really need to get out more.
-
Do I love you, *****? Do I? Don't I? Love is nothing but a chemical reaction, this is true. It's nothing but simple science. But then again, isn't anything else? Rainbows, sunrises, beautifully intricate machinery. It can all be boiled down to simple science. So whether or not it's "true love" is not the issue, because every love is true, according to science. There is a physical reaction in the brain, chemicals are circulated, emotions are simulated, and brash decisions are more easily made. The mind and body is affected. I came so close to dropping you completely, so effortlessly. All I did was ignore you. Was that the answer? Of course not. So now we are switched again. I love it. I can't get enough of it. But that may be my downfall. We are in love in unreality only. In the virtual space. I don't even know what you look like, my lovely wolf. I'm sure I am not a lot to write home about. We are engrossed so wholey in this unreality that we would never possibly love eachother in real life. You and I are among the broken. It's hard to describe, but you and I have become so engrossed in the internet culture, with all of its perfect bodies and sculpted figures, that our perception of beauty has been warped beyond recognition. If only I could overcome that hurdle and learn to love the real you. But will I actually love the real you? I don't know. That's what I'm afraid of. All I know, is that I love you in this moment, and that should be enough for now... hopefully...
10/24/16
How comfortable unreality has gotten. I call it the Fear and Loathing syndrome. When you submerge yourself in drugs and drink, you become so attached to it that it starts to feel like home, and damn does it feel like home. Mmm baby....
-
I kinda want to get drunk tonight, but I have no money. I must get drunk, that other stuff felt so good. I have to remember that the perfect drunk is the combination of beer and liquor. I must engorge myself on that and good smoke. I would loooooove that. Omg. I need to put a list together of a few household things I need. Soap, paper towels and such. What I wouldn't give to be in a saturday evening on the porch with a drink in my hand and a cigar in my mouth. Man that would be so relaxing.
-
A gnawing and mashing of teeth. An unstoppable force of anger. Vibrant dark shades of voilent purple flash around me, soaring in all directions. I need release. Obliteration. I want every disgusting hunk of flesh and meat to be torn viciously from my bone, my eyes and face peeled back by the awesome heat of the unfeeling white void. I crave absolution, crave it so deeply. It's a hunger deeper than my deepest emotions. A hunger for raw unending rage, to destroy until there is nothing left to destroy. I feel locked in this prison around my mind, and an animal is waiting to fight and claw its way out, or die trying.
-
When was the last time you felt passionate about something. When was the last time you had something you'd give your life for?
10/25/16
I sometimes wonder why I'm still typing in here, but then I quickly remind myself that stopping this was a bad idea. Why shouldn't I continue this quest? It is all in my best interest, and sometimes this is the only thing I can do to stop the abhorrent screaming that is constantly occupying my mind. I wonder if medication would help. I think not. Really what I am forseeing is a slow but apparant change in my habits. No smoking, yes drinking, no cigs, yes cigars, less masturbation, more augmentation. My life needs to be changed. My habits need to be changed. My whole setting needs to be changed, and that means making sacrifices. I must construct a cultivating environment for my mind. Living is such an aggrevation. It's operating with a constant nagging madness that threatens to devour me whole. I sense on the fringes of my mind, a darkness. It is there, it has been there since I started maturing. It grows and feeds on my insecurities, growing stronger and more powerful with every shot my self-esteem takes. It is engulfing my reasoning and decision-making, and soon it will devour me whole. I feel, however, that there is a weapon to fight it. There is something locked deep in my brain that can fight it back, and that one thing is something I must think of in repetition. I must remind myself over and over that in order to fight this maniacal darkness I must travel and experience everything. Over and over.
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Can anybody find me someone to love. Find me somebody to love. Please, not just anybody. Please, let it be somebody. Somebody to love. I need somebody to love. I feel like the love i have to give is being wasted on nothingness. I'm pouring this multicolored, viscous substance straight into the garbage. It's like I build up more of it, and have to keep dumping it because it isn't used in time, and it expires. Instead of pouring my love into a relationship, I'm dumping it down the drain. It flows into the ocean and becomes inert and useless. I guess I should just keep dumping it when it gets too full, because it doesn't belong to anyone, and I certainly do not have a use for it. Not yet.
-
The urge to destory is everpresent. I know it's only my raw emotion searching for an outlet, but damn would it feel good to destroy some shit. Need to find a way to satisfy this red hunger.
10/26/16
Obscenity! Anger and frustration engorging my mind! So much aggrevation!
-
Keep your cool man, just relax. Breath breath. No whammy's. Do that thing you normally do to control your anger, and do it right now. Ok I will. There we go. It didn't help much, but I'll take whatever help I can get. It's not fun to be made a joke in front of your customers. I feel so small, so very inadequate. It's a pretty terrible feeling. Kinda feel like going to the beach again.
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All this shoddy half-assed pop music doesn't make living any easier. It's like living in a world of fucking sheep. God....
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Overanalyze everything. Judge everyone. Expect dissapointment. Live in anguish. Thrive in anger.
-
Don't worry, you'll get to it eventually. And when is eventually? When everything is done? It will never all be done. You've got to learn to work as an organzied mess, you know this. Why have you become so stupid since last we spoke, Brian? A wreck of a human being. This is what I am. I have come to accept this. But what can I do about it? Not much right now. Quit cigs, get a better job, pursue what I truly desire, make a name for myself. None of these are easily accomplished. I need to add weightloss to that list. Pff like that's ever going to happen. I'm going to stay a fat ugly fuck for the rest of my life. Curse my sedentary life-style! Why oh why do I detest exercise?
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I'm tired. So very tired of being alive. I need peace, soft everlasting peace. Something I can feel, not death per se. It's gonna take a lot to drag me away from you. There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever do. I blessed the rains down in africa, gonna take some time to do the things we never ever had. Hurry boy she's waiting there for you. I miss you, to the point of tears. I miss you so very much. It's a hole in my heart that burns and bleeds with everlasting pain. I yearn for your embrace, and every second without you is an eternity of immeasurable anguish. Yet, who are you? I don't even know who you are.... Yet... you are gone, gone with that place and every happy memory I had there along with it. I never wanted this, and I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, can you ever forgive me?
10/27/16
So I guess I have to take care of the dogs this weekend. Oh well, that will give me a chance to find and download my facebook videos. I have to remember to do that. This will be one of my only opportunities to do it.
11/1/16
Went through and cleaned up my desktop. It made me feel a little bit better, not that I'm looking to improve my mood today. I feel pretty good for an afternoon. The time has been ticking away, unnoticed by me, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. I found several good song ideas in these folders that I may want to bring home with me. I really really really want another laptop, something good. I get so tired of not being able to type like this at home.
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Now you ignore me, a switch of circumstances as it seems. I can't say I don't deserve it. I deserve every cold shoulder you give me. I can only hope to find some ladder out of this dark hole of unfulfilled romantic endeavors. Nothing would make me happier than some firm ground to stand on for a change.
11/2/16
Type type type. All I do is type and talk to you. My eyes hurt. My head hurts. My stomach hurts. Everything hurts. I'm restless, agitated, and aggrevated. You can only bottle up emotion for so long before it bursts forth triumphantly. I wonder if my hair only grows to a certain length and then just falls out. Why can't it grow longer? I wish I had long flowing hair, then maybe I wouldn't be completely ugly. Ah and there's that low self-confidence again. Will I ever believe in myself? "Believe in the me that believes in you". I'm so very tired of being alive. So very tired of living in the south. Just completely tired of everything altogether. I'm exhausted by everything. Maybe its because I'm a little overweight. Now, see brian how most of your problems come back to that. You would probably feel pretty good right now if you were an average build. But no, you have to procrastinate and shirk your exercise.
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I think about you every day. You... such a broad encompassing term. You.. you failures. You dark shadows of past failures. I miss you so much. You... who are you? Just a memory that I replay with a golden film? Yes. Yes you are. You are gone to me now, and will remain that way forever. I know this. But the tiny happiness I can squeeze from your memory is worth the torture of remembering you every day. False happiness it may be, but i will take happiness in any form. Its so very damaging to me. Yet I dwell on you, I expand the spectrum of our relationship out in front of me and pick out the pieces of happiness scattered throughout like golden flakes in the stream. I ignore the black smudges of my shortcomings, my arguements with you, my problems... I focus on you... on that smile, that smile that hid behind it pure wonder... pure happiness. I think about those eyes, oh how they rolled at my jocular personality! I think about that long flowing hair, scented with the perfume of angels, soft and silky to the touch. I think about your full cheeks that reddened ever so lightly at my every compliment. I have this image of us in my head, sitting on the bench outside of Oyster House, holding eachother tight. I had you then, and you had me. The picture we took was framed, displayed, and then turned down as I fell away from you. But that picture... I see my own happiness in it, I see my genuine happiness. It wasn't drug induced, it didn't boil up in response to a joke, I was happy just to be with you.. just to be alive. I was happy to have something to pour my heart into. You were my everything, and then my nothing. Strange how something so magnificent and glowing can fill your entire body to bursting. Strange how it can vacuumed out so thoroughly, taking something of yours with it.. Taking pieces of you with it, burning a heavy hole in the place that matters most. It's strange how something that only lasted a year can leave you defeated for years after. Defeated, destroyed, desicrated, demoralized, demonized, dismantled, defaced, derailed, detached, demolished, drained, divided, done.
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My body aches with frustration, and I realize that maybe I should start running again. Maybe that can solve some things.
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You know there's something wrong when your idea of relaxation is sitting in your car and screaming until your vocal chords give out. I need to go on break and do that. Maybe being hungover has something to do with it.
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I'm jittery, really jittery. I need to calm the fuck down. I can barely type. My hands are shaking, I'm losing it. Just gotta keep myself busy so I can operate efficiently.
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You have impaired me. I want you to know this. I want you to know that this relationship has ruined love for me. You of number. You of many faces. You have destroyed my idea of love as being anything other than an burden. Knowledge is such a burden, as is stress and worry. You have imparted unto me an inset expectation of failure. You have broken me. No relationship I ever have will ever be pure ever again. Not until the memory of you is wiped clean. It must be scrubbed, cleansed, polished, bleached into oblivion. Maybe then... Maybe then I may find peace.
11/06/16
This place we've built for ourselves... a cradle of aggrevation for you, and a monument of freedom for me. You have been thrust into this world as a broken individual. How far have you fallen... How plagued with grief and self-pity you have become. You despair, as I observe. Fortune favors our lives, and only our lives. No material nor idea shall it give us freely. This you must understand. You have fought against the current your whole life. Will you ever reach the shore? Sometimes I wonder... sometimes I hope. Will you encounter peace, or the furious destruction of your ideals? Time can only tell.
11/07/16
Such a terrible depression threatens to absorb me. I must fight it with all my heart.
11/08/16
We're approaching this boiling point for emotion, and I don't know what to do to make it stop...
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"Last night I dreamt I'd forgotten my name cause I sold my soul, but I walked just the same. I'm so tired."
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I've rolled myself into a ball of emotion with all of this negativity. I have successfully defeated myself with regret, slashed and lain barren my flesh to the cosmos. The black coldness of loneliness consumes my heart, and I weep. God... please save me... I beg you. Dear jesus won't you please pierce this eternal void and shine brilliantly upon my fetal form. Bring unto me happiness, I beg of you. I want somebody to love, but I do not deserve it. Therefore, please bring me happiness, bring me absolution. I look to the emptiness in my life and take solace in the fact that at least God loves me. That is someone to love.
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Certain parts of me are being pushed to the extreme. I'm reaching farther with my arms, outstretching my fingers, pushing my joints to the limit because I am anxious for carnage. I crave destruction and voilent outbursts. I am becoming something of a monster. Perhaps exercise will help.
11/15/16
It feels like i despise everyone around me, which I almost do. I hate and hate and hate, feeling it overtake me so easily because it feels so good. It's almost like a climax. I hate and hate and keep hating until finally it explodes into violence. How great that would feel.
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I'm so sick and fucking tired of this place man. What am I tired of... I'm tired of being angry, of having just-below-the-surface rage. It's all there, ready to explode at all times. I'm tired of having to control it, and I'm tired of being too sluggish to deal with the rage. There's no outlet. I need to keep running, just keep fucking running. I need to just run until I can't run anymore, and then start walking back. That seems like a great fucking idea. I need to start running and not stop until I'm all through. Too bad today I'm going to go get my oil changed instead of being able to run. Oh well.
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"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
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It's so queer how you can feel alive but not at the same time. Like I know I'm here, that this is my body, and that I am alive. But I do not feel here, I do not feel that this body is the right fit, and I feel completely dead inside.
11/17/16
******'s depression... does it hold substance? I wonder this day and night. It worries me. Sometimes I think that he may be better off moving back to Augusta. He doesn't strive to do better.
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I wonder if you realize how much you bring me down. Why can't you see this? Why can't you see that if you killed yourself, you would destroy me completely, you would destroy everything around you. Why can't you see that you mean so much to me. Why can you only think of yourself, you selfish asshole. Why can't you realize that your bad mood cancels out my good mood for the whole day. You turned the evening into a dragging monotony of trying to get home. I hope you know and understand this.
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Whenever you think it is the right time to speak, it'll be the wrong time to speak. Whenever you think you are through being awkward, you will be proven wrong. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn my inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only i will remain.
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I must become efficient at tuning people out. I must ignore all negativity.
11/22/16
I just wish I was high up in a single empty apartment somewhere in Japan. It's evening, it's raining, and I step out into the staircase to smoke a cigarette. The tall buildings around me are shrouded in the fog of rain. It's nice and peaceful, with the falling rain sound filling the air with white noise. Below, the streets are muddy with people, flipping up their trenchcoat collars and pulling their hats down. I would love to just be by myself in that regard, completely alone. I step back into hall and walk down to my apartment door. Inside, my single room is small and comfortable. It compels me to spend most of my time outside. What I wouldn't give to be a free-roamer, walking to my destination where-ever it may be. The rain has cleared, and night is strong this far up. 30 stories in the air.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
11/30/16
Fuck you stupid self! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU! Do not open your mouth for stupid shit like that! God how can you be so fucking stupid!
12/01/16
So sick and fucking tired of being here, of being trapped in this chair behind this computer. I'm so sick of computers, of people. I need to get out. I look away from the screen, and it still feels like my vision is trapped by the screen. It's forced to feel narrow and straight forward.
12/06/16
Finally calmed down after that incident this morning. Am I ever gonna quit smoking? I wonder...
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Well, after reading through this whole thing again, I feel it is time to put it up somewhere. Not sure why, maybe someone will read it and it will help them. Maybe it'll make me feel better. Not sure, but I can't keep all of this to myself. So here you go.
If you want to be happy just shut the fuck up and say your happy~ Teoro Tuskuru
Matter if just the rambling of your thoughts, there is wisdom for you here.
Yes, volunteer, yes get out. At least your writing and that is half the battle.
A true Friend does as you ascribe, sadly the world does not have a lot of true friends. In fact if your "friends" act as such and don't realize the depth of your friendship perhaps they are not friends.
You seek happiness in past memories of once was, but clearly it is not providing you happiness.
There is some kind of cloud overcasting my entire life, and I was using this internal searching to try and find my own answer to it.
Most of my apparent suffering could probably be solved by a change of setting. My plan is to move to oregon, which is the other side of the US from me. I'm ambitious, but cautious, for running from my problems has gotten me into trouble before.
As for writing, I've cleared up so much of my mental workspace, laying out a few story ideas I want to expand upon, as well as setting myself on the track to songwriting. I look at how barren my FA gallery has been, and it only fuels my hunger for writing. The only thing holding me back is not having a computer to type on. This whole diary thing was typed over the course of 2 months using my work computer, and even that was pathetically sporadic.
I have folders full of story ideas and song ideas, but all I can do is sit on them until I get my own pc.
It's pretty mind-numbing to see it all there in front of me, and being unable to do anything about it. Even this response was typed off my phone while pacing around at work.
Safe moving. Oregon is quite beautiful.
Well hopefully you can get a cheap writing machine.