irina

To those of you who left such sweet remarks on my last journal, or those of you who wondered if I was okay, please pardon my brief absence and lack of explanation. It turns out I was not sick, but rather was prescribed yet another drug by my therapist and psychopharmacologist without being made aware of all of the drug's purposes. They did not think things through clearly enough, nor did they make me fully aware of the reasoning behind the decision they made, and so I have spent the last week at the mercy of a tiny yellow pill called Remeron. For most people that name won't mean anything, but for those of you who are familiar with the drug, you will understand that i am not exaggerating when I say that a single 15mg dose of the stuff put me to sleep for over 36 straight hours. Literally. But since the effects of the drug weren't fully explained to me, I just assumed I was sick, and didn't stop taking the drug until yesterday.

That said, I have been sleeping approximately 23.5 hours per day, starting Tuesday and continuing up until yesterday night. I have almost literally slept through an entire week. It was supposed to be a busy, important, and productive week, as well. Alas, it turned out otherwise. But anyway, now that I've explained that, there are other things I want to write about here. But before I get to that, I'm going to post some lyrics which relate to what I'll be writing about, (not to mention the general emotional current of my life.)

My Friends
~Red Hot Chili Peppers

My friends are so depressed
I feel the question of your loneliness
Confide...'cause I'll be on your side
You know I will, you know I will

Ex-girlfriend called me up
Alone and desperate on the prison phone
They want to give her seven years
For being sad

Chorus:
I love all of you
Hurt by the cold
So hard and lonely too
When you don't know yourself

My friends are so distressed
And standing on the brink of emptiness
No words I know of to express
This emptiness

Chorus

Imagine me, taught by tragedy
Release is peace

I heard a little girl
And what she said was something beautiful
To give your love no matter what
Is what she said

Chorus


Every so often, I catch myself wondering what my purpose here is. I know I have none. (Or, from an evolutionary standpoint, my only purpose is to make babies. But thats one purpose i certainly do not intend to serve. My parents' genes fuck me over on a daily basis; how could I possibly pass that on to someone else?) Though I cannot prove that life (mine or anyone else's) is without purpose, I still consider it to be more or less a fact. But even so, I do wonder sometimes, what is it that I'm meant to be doing? It is in these moments that I find myself most envious of religious believers. I don't understand how they could base their entire lives around something so abstract and illogical. I just can't understand how. But I surely understand why. It must be nice to think that everything happens for a reason, even though the reason hasn't been made known. How relaxing that must be. How light it must make a person feel. Religion is the most perfectly crafted safety net ever made. It is so perfect that even I am caught up in it every so often.

Returning home on this rainy night after 24 infinitely sinful hours (of sloth, gluttony, envy, lust, pride, greed, and anger - I should be dying any moment now,) I had one of these purpose-pondering moments. I passed by the salvation army, and oddly the door was open tonight. From inside, a warm yellow glow spilled out onto the otherwise merciless sidewalk, along with the singing of the gospel choir. As I neared the open doorway my feet slowed, and for a brief moment I wondered how it felt to be inside, to be one of the people so completely devoted that they were willing to congregate tonight despite the rain and cold. But my coat was too thin for me to be dawdling by the door, and as I passed by, so did the moment. Continuing homeward with the Chili Peppers playing in my ears, I thought of the music video and of Anthony Kiedis - shirtless, palms outstretched towards the sky, singing to me about the cruelties of the world - like my own rock 'n roll Jesus, the only thing I could reach out to in this barren gray wasteland of a city. The wind made me squint, and I walked as fast as my sore little legs would allow. It wasn't till I reached the severe black gates of home that I realized the rain had stopped, and it was now only my own tears that ran down my cold cheeks.