Chronicles Of My Own Groundhog Day (by Kinto Suicide)
7:00 My day starts. Without me, since Im still sleeping. Once again I went to bed too late and too many disturbing thoughts meant another restless night. So I sleep on, because I can only sleep well in the morning when my relentless mind finally decides to give me a break.
8:45 Ive been pushing it once again but this time I have to get out of bed. Im going to arrive slightly late at work as per usual. I live about a 3-minute walk away from work and I really dont know if I would even bother to get up & go if itd take me longer. Interesting thought. Once motivation is but a distant memory, what makes you still get up?
9:10 Out of the shower & almost ready to go. The shower didnt wake me up. I stood there, with boiling water raining down on me, trying to see if the burn would make me feel something. It didnt. It was just annoying. Now I cant even be bothered to look good (which, for those who know me, would seem highly improbable). I take the same old clothes because theres nobody worth making an effort in this place.
9:20 Im at work. Im already laughing, since Pierre is arriving as well and stupid jokes are let loose. Its like having my splitting image 2 meters away from me every day. Like talking to myself in 3-D. He doesnt know why he is here. He doesnt remember when he stopped having any kind of interest for this job. We laugh at our own emptiness & lack of action. Maybe someday well figure out what were supposed to do with our lives. But right now were still in the middle of the Sahara, looking for directions.
12:00 Lunch break. Finally. Ive probably worked for about 1 hour this morning. My time was mostly spent on slsk, downloading shitloads of stuff I dont need. Sometimes I wonder if this keeps my sanity in check or if it makes me even crazier... because those files wont download or just download too slow. Ive been on SG as well, mainly reading all the updates in my bookmarks. I need to reply to many people but I just dont do it. I dont feel like I have anything remotely interesting to say or anything that could help them see clearer. Sometimes I do, but I can never predict when it happens. I could have been a genius writer, since I can be really good at times... not being pretentious, just stating a fact... but as everything else in my life, the main problem is that I have absolutely no self-discipline. I just cant put myself to work towards targets & deadlines (although, funnily enough, my job is all about that). Ive always refused discipline & authority. But I wouldnt become the punk + dog type. Anarchy is for losers, but mainly losers who think they are better than everybody else. Theyre so much better that they end up squatting in squalid places all their lives while thinking theyre free. New parasites of a system that needs them. Well done. But Im digressing.
13:15 back to work. Were late (Pierre & me), since we go to my place to have lunch and nobody looks at the clock anymore. We happen to come back more or less randomly, based on some internal clock. The afternoon is going to be boring, what a surprise, there are many people in the office now and theres so much noise, pieces of conversation in all the languages of the world, like so many slaves for the 21st century. The ball & chain these days is called iPod, Prada or Gucci. Lets all be happy about so much shit to make our useless lives less boring.
17:30 Im leaving work & Im not sure I really want to go home anyway, anymore. anyhow. Once again, resisting the urge not to get wasted because it is only making matters worse, fooling us with an abstract sense of joy & freedom that is the cosiest hell. Im going to hate myself again, Im going to do stupid things Ill regret when Im sober again, Im going to think Ive done stupid things and that will drive me insane. Theyll all think Im a fool, theyll all think I am someone Im not. My own hell shouldnt be on display, because display items are always sold half-price.
19:00 Well, Ive eaten, at least Ive cooked something this time, which makes me feel a bit better somehow. There are many things I am supposed to do but once again, tonight, I will avoid all the important, soul-saving ones and end up drifting endlessly on the net or watching some film I dont care about. I cant play guitar anymore & remember the high it used to bring. Nowadays, all I see is shattered hopes & misplaced trust. This is all gone. Indeed.
22:00 OK, this time I should really check the job listings or think again about the best way to get the fuck out of this country that is killing me by draining the little amount of substance I have left inside. Again, I dont. I get distracted and I end up reading a book, but not the one Im supposed to. I cant win. I cant beat my own self because its so easy to just drift, go with the flow. Its like my mind is annihilating itself with the fondest pleasure. I may want to fight for something, but what? And why? And how?
I have questions to last me a century but I have only 30 seconds of correct answers spinning in my head. I am losing it, I need to stop thinking.
00:30 Here we go again, I should have gone to bed early but instead I kept looking at those pictures on the walls. Me, friends, lovers. They dont mean anything anymore already. Theyre gone, like all the years before. They become improbable. Substance-free. In a few years, if I am still on this earth, they will be in a drawer, long forgotten and maybe coming out once a year, the odd time, probably near xmas where Ill be wondering where did it all go, where did I go wrong, where did I lose it, where all those years faded. I would like to cry but I cant, I would like to smash things but I dont, I would like to believe but I dont. I lay in my bed, eyes wide open, waiting for myself to get out of the grave.
7:00 Fast forward. My day starts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winter in the UK is gay, dull, spineless. Sucks the life out of you.
Apart from that, I don't feel that desperate. I should stop reading Cline during the winter though.
Much
to you all.
7:00 My day starts. Without me, since Im still sleeping. Once again I went to bed too late and too many disturbing thoughts meant another restless night. So I sleep on, because I can only sleep well in the morning when my relentless mind finally decides to give me a break.
8:45 Ive been pushing it once again but this time I have to get out of bed. Im going to arrive slightly late at work as per usual. I live about a 3-minute walk away from work and I really dont know if I would even bother to get up & go if itd take me longer. Interesting thought. Once motivation is but a distant memory, what makes you still get up?
9:10 Out of the shower & almost ready to go. The shower didnt wake me up. I stood there, with boiling water raining down on me, trying to see if the burn would make me feel something. It didnt. It was just annoying. Now I cant even be bothered to look good (which, for those who know me, would seem highly improbable). I take the same old clothes because theres nobody worth making an effort in this place.
9:20 Im at work. Im already laughing, since Pierre is arriving as well and stupid jokes are let loose. Its like having my splitting image 2 meters away from me every day. Like talking to myself in 3-D. He doesnt know why he is here. He doesnt remember when he stopped having any kind of interest for this job. We laugh at our own emptiness & lack of action. Maybe someday well figure out what were supposed to do with our lives. But right now were still in the middle of the Sahara, looking for directions.
12:00 Lunch break. Finally. Ive probably worked for about 1 hour this morning. My time was mostly spent on slsk, downloading shitloads of stuff I dont need. Sometimes I wonder if this keeps my sanity in check or if it makes me even crazier... because those files wont download or just download too slow. Ive been on SG as well, mainly reading all the updates in my bookmarks. I need to reply to many people but I just dont do it. I dont feel like I have anything remotely interesting to say or anything that could help them see clearer. Sometimes I do, but I can never predict when it happens. I could have been a genius writer, since I can be really good at times... not being pretentious, just stating a fact... but as everything else in my life, the main problem is that I have absolutely no self-discipline. I just cant put myself to work towards targets & deadlines (although, funnily enough, my job is all about that). Ive always refused discipline & authority. But I wouldnt become the punk + dog type. Anarchy is for losers, but mainly losers who think they are better than everybody else. Theyre so much better that they end up squatting in squalid places all their lives while thinking theyre free. New parasites of a system that needs them. Well done. But Im digressing.
13:15 back to work. Were late (Pierre & me), since we go to my place to have lunch and nobody looks at the clock anymore. We happen to come back more or less randomly, based on some internal clock. The afternoon is going to be boring, what a surprise, there are many people in the office now and theres so much noise, pieces of conversation in all the languages of the world, like so many slaves for the 21st century. The ball & chain these days is called iPod, Prada or Gucci. Lets all be happy about so much shit to make our useless lives less boring.
17:30 Im leaving work & Im not sure I really want to go home anyway, anymore. anyhow. Once again, resisting the urge not to get wasted because it is only making matters worse, fooling us with an abstract sense of joy & freedom that is the cosiest hell. Im going to hate myself again, Im going to do stupid things Ill regret when Im sober again, Im going to think Ive done stupid things and that will drive me insane. Theyll all think Im a fool, theyll all think I am someone Im not. My own hell shouldnt be on display, because display items are always sold half-price.
19:00 Well, Ive eaten, at least Ive cooked something this time, which makes me feel a bit better somehow. There are many things I am supposed to do but once again, tonight, I will avoid all the important, soul-saving ones and end up drifting endlessly on the net or watching some film I dont care about. I cant play guitar anymore & remember the high it used to bring. Nowadays, all I see is shattered hopes & misplaced trust. This is all gone. Indeed.
22:00 OK, this time I should really check the job listings or think again about the best way to get the fuck out of this country that is killing me by draining the little amount of substance I have left inside. Again, I dont. I get distracted and I end up reading a book, but not the one Im supposed to. I cant win. I cant beat my own self because its so easy to just drift, go with the flow. Its like my mind is annihilating itself with the fondest pleasure. I may want to fight for something, but what? And why? And how?
I have questions to last me a century but I have only 30 seconds of correct answers spinning in my head. I am losing it, I need to stop thinking.
00:30 Here we go again, I should have gone to bed early but instead I kept looking at those pictures on the walls. Me, friends, lovers. They dont mean anything anymore already. Theyre gone, like all the years before. They become improbable. Substance-free. In a few years, if I am still on this earth, they will be in a drawer, long forgotten and maybe coming out once a year, the odd time, probably near xmas where Ill be wondering where did it all go, where did I go wrong, where did I lose it, where all those years faded. I would like to cry but I cant, I would like to smash things but I dont, I would like to believe but I dont. I lay in my bed, eyes wide open, waiting for myself to get out of the grave.
7:00 Fast forward. My day starts.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winter in the UK is gay, dull, spineless. Sucks the life out of you.
Apart from that, I don't feel that desperate. I should stop reading Cline during the winter though.
Much
to you all.
VIEW 25 of 38 COMMENTS
Its only in the last year or two that I somehow pulled myself out of it and concentrated on doing the things I want to do. I'm very broke and increasingly in debt but its been worth it.
Maybe a complete change of scenery would be good for you, and definitely a change of job. why not pick up your guitar and learn it again? focus on the things that make you happy?
but then, you know all this.
Whats the best e-mail address to reach you on? I'm going to send you the first 41 pages of that script to see what you think.
Also, whats your slsk username? i'm often on there as @^+
would be good to chat and leech music.
Hope to see you next Saturday at the meet..
Take it easy.
A
i am perplexed