it is my second or third night in a row where i have been kneeling at my bed and typing on my laptop.
it sort of feels like i have been praying, like i am very desperate for something to happen in respects to me understanding what i need to do to end up in preferable situations, like so i am not in a subway station at 2am hating myself and my bank account and my job and my thoughts, when i want to be at home or hiking or reading or something. so i don't keep looking back on when i was first writing things and giving them to teachers and them saying things to me so that i could build my confidence and, but now, have to feel that nothing has changed since that time. what do i need to do so that i am not looking for things that other writers do to be in my own writing.
what do i need to do to convert my feelings of aimlessness, anxiousness, and boredom into motivation to sit down and write. when will my focus shift from not being able to concentrate and feel confident, uncompromising, and excited.
will it hurt me to be as reckless as i am in the beginning, is it still the beginning. will i improve.
i wrote ideas down for this blog post earlier in a notebook. i feel that if i can't re-think these ideas without the notebook then they are not substantial or my brain is just fucked and i should get started at a manual labor career.
i am listening to choking victim. i just downloaded seven albums by them via one torrent.
i saw tyson earlier. some parts of it were interesting. i felt things that i heard and saw affecting the way i think of my own life. it was funny to be within tyson's world for ninety minutes, it felt real or something. i think i thought 'damn, this is someones life. this is life. a life.' the young tyson, approximately 84' - 91' was inspiring. he moved very fast. must have trained very hard, intensely.
i feel like my life is heading in an unknown direction. i look at other people's lives and i wish my own life seemed as simple as theirs. sometimes i just sort of stare off at inanimate things and feel that i don't understand any of it but at the same time like i am growing very accustomed to what i am seeing. i feel anxious but sort of oblivious to the fact that i am older than i want to be while feeling this way, like when a washer machine or dryer at a laundromat is making loud noises and no one is acknowledging it and if you're the one using it you feel guilty for some reason.
i feel like a small event can alter my situation in a major way. i also feel like i want to go to the gym and do crunches while attempting to exert more effort than i have in my three months as a member there. i want to work really hard and manage my time effectively, so that not only am i going to be a player in the game, i am going to sort of impress people. i want to view the back of my head or my side profile in a home video of myself and my friends and get a like a cool feeling of relief.
i feel like my ability to work hard at things is decreasing. i am more easily distracted every day. i gambled two days in a row, ate fast food two days in a row, saw a movie, and went to three bars this weekend.
my thoughts are consistently about working on things. i feel like i keep trying to cover up that i want to write with things like gambling, playing stocks, doing laundry, eating food, and downloading music illegally. i feel myself inside of my body recoiling, as if my body is gross, un-showered, and heavy handed and hormonal.
i just want a ten-foot, red haired barbarian to do barrel rolls down my street, crushing the pavement.
i want the internet to fail for the entire world except for maybe in iceland and there be a mad rush for all of humanity to inhabit that country before they build a giant wall to keep out the desperate, infected, doomed humans.
i want to just survive on physical skills alone, that or simply money savvies and professionalism, have in-demand labor skills. i want to go to everyone's house and fix something they would be appreciate having fixed and willing to pay like 30 bucks for me to fix and be done in like an hour and half and do that like 6 times per day, go home, work out, shower, and then work on lacquering and finishing the hull of a boat i plan to ride down the mississippi river.
can't i just drink myself to death or get on probation. have i missed my opportunity to get women drunk and take advantage of them, contract an std, and lose count and then become sick of women and then learn an instrument or a rare dance and then be inspired to travel the country.
i just want to at least write about something other than not being able to write, in a form that can be consistent enough for myself to merge with prior selves so that i might have a more enjoyable insanity.
this country is ------ right. as balanced as we are with our risk and return, our love and our hate, i mean we still have to do it until we die. i mean i just feel like i am going to die before things really change.
i just feel like either i need to have something happen or i am going to miss out on something. like what is going on right now are things happening that i am going to hear about later, how will they affect me.
i am not understanding who i was in the past so much. it feels like i am trying to be more in the future but i am sort of just existing in the past more. the air feels like the same air as when i was ten or two or eighteen.
i just want a decent metaphor for the present. i feel sort of lost in the present. i think i went and reached for my checkbook on my desk the other day and i was thinking like 'who the am i. why am i reaching for this thing. why are these things in my room. why did i get up and walk around.'