Again, this is a WHINE blog. If you're not prepared to read it, go no further.
You have been warned.
You have been warned.
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
Constantly, I wonder what the fuck I'm doing with my life. I haven't got a job. I haven't got a girlfriend. I haven't got my own place. I haven't got friends to hang out with. Not for lack of trying, mind you.
I know other people have it worse than me. I see evidence of it daily and I'd like to say I feel compassion, perhaps sympathy. But its hard to give a shit about the outside world when you're self absorbed like me. I guess thats what I am. I could be doing alot more for other people, but I keep thinking back to me.
I want to be a better person, so I'll like me more. But I can't get past the hang up I've got about being such an asshole, which I'm not even sure is accurate. I may be setting myself too high a standard, then not bothering because I know I'll fail, then getting pissier with myself.
I keep telling myself to make little changes to make things better for everyone around me. I keep trying to do things better to help out. But the tiniest little bit of frustration sends me off the deep end. I have rage issues. Like Homer, I am addicted to Rage-ahol. I need something. I don't know what. Just SOMETHING to anchor me so I don't go bat-shit crazy.
I think maybe I already am. I sleep alot. I prefer it to being awake. The real world at the moment is just too hostile for me right now. I don't want it to be, god no. I want it to be like I felt at Soundwave. I was surrounded by my happy, worry-free peers. Even for a few hours, it felt great. But still, the me in my mind is a petty, twisted little troll and was telling me all the things I didn't want to hear, but needed to hear.
Does that make sense? I don't know. Alot of what I think and know doesn't make sense to me.
Like I said.. I may be going mad.
Not the good kind of mad, the kind that inspires artistry or genious.
My genious is steeped in rage and anger with a dash of paranoia and a hint of tobasco.
I believe in Karma, yet I defy it. Both in being and in action. I do nice things sometimes. I am not, fundamentally, a bad person. I am a wicked person. I am depraved. I am flawed. But I am not bad. That seems kind of oxymoronic, right? It seems some kind of moronic. But I do nice things, even though in my head I resent doing them. Is karma an attribute of intention or action?
Someone please help me sort my shit out. I would really like a friend instead of people I just smile at and lie my way by with. I want a connection. I want to not feel wrong. Not wrong as in.. wrong. But wrong as in unnatural. Out of place. I feel like a golem.. or that I'm being controlled by a Homonculus. I'm not crazy.
But I am mad. I am a crab. A porcupine.
Constantly, I wonder what the fuck I'm doing with my life. I haven't got a job. I haven't got a girlfriend. I haven't got my own place. I haven't got friends to hang out with. Not for lack of trying, mind you.
I know other people have it worse than me. I see evidence of it daily and I'd like to say I feel compassion, perhaps sympathy. But its hard to give a shit about the outside world when you're self absorbed like me. I guess thats what I am. I could be doing alot more for other people, but I keep thinking back to me.
I want to be a better person, so I'll like me more. But I can't get past the hang up I've got about being such an asshole, which I'm not even sure is accurate. I may be setting myself too high a standard, then not bothering because I know I'll fail, then getting pissier with myself.
I keep telling myself to make little changes to make things better for everyone around me. I keep trying to do things better to help out. But the tiniest little bit of frustration sends me off the deep end. I have rage issues. Like Homer, I am addicted to Rage-ahol. I need something. I don't know what. Just SOMETHING to anchor me so I don't go bat-shit crazy.
I think maybe I already am. I sleep alot. I prefer it to being awake. The real world at the moment is just too hostile for me right now. I don't want it to be, god no. I want it to be like I felt at Soundwave. I was surrounded by my happy, worry-free peers. Even for a few hours, it felt great. But still, the me in my mind is a petty, twisted little troll and was telling me all the things I didn't want to hear, but needed to hear.
Does that make sense? I don't know. Alot of what I think and know doesn't make sense to me.
Like I said.. I may be going mad.
Not the good kind of mad, the kind that inspires artistry or genious.
My genious is steeped in rage and anger with a dash of paranoia and a hint of tobasco.
I believe in Karma, yet I defy it. Both in being and in action. I do nice things sometimes. I am not, fundamentally, a bad person. I am a wicked person. I am depraved. I am flawed. But I am not bad. That seems kind of oxymoronic, right? It seems some kind of moronic. But I do nice things, even though in my head I resent doing them. Is karma an attribute of intention or action?
Someone please help me sort my shit out. I would really like a friend instead of people I just smile at and lie my way by with. I want a connection. I want to not feel wrong. Not wrong as in.. wrong. But wrong as in unnatural. Out of place. I feel like a golem.. or that I'm being controlled by a Homonculus. I'm not crazy.
But I am mad. I am a crab. A porcupine.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
You know what BUY AND READ THIS BOOK seriously. I think it could do you a lot of good. It's not a "oh you're a horrible person here's a self help book" it's written by a Buddhist Monk and I couldn't put it down when I read it the first time. I've got anger issues and this shows the positive side of anger.