I feel like I've stepped back into my old life. I have friends, but I see them when I go to their house. When I meet them at the bar, when I go to work. Friday night hits and I start making calls trying to find out who's doing something fun, and if I can tag along.
and then when I leave, I don't just leave their house, I leave their planet. Their reality. I enter my own, encompassed entirely by my thoughts. This horrid solipsistic isolation I live in.
Brody broke up the isolation for a bit. I enjoyed having company, we'll not broach the rest of that subject. I don't like being reminded when I'm the asshole.
She did however inspire me to at least make some effort to change my studio from being a bedroom with a fridge and a stove in it, into something more of a home, with amenities and such to entertain guests.
I still don't know how to change my personality and the way I interact with people. This detachment I always seem to keep.
it's rather disappointing. I'm this horrid introvert, with all this fun baggage of suicides, strange upbringing, excentric parents, demented social interaction, failure and complications with women, and interest and ability with music, arts, singing, computers, electronics. I'm an excellent jack of all trades. but I fail at all of this because even though i spend so much time alone, I can't seem to get my inspiration and drive together to ever accomplish anything. Endless unfinished projects. I either have the potential to be an artist, an inventor, a musician, or a psychopathic murderer. but I'll never be any of these things, because I have no drive to do any of it. I go to work, because that's what i do for money. I keep breathing cause i don't have to make a conscious effort to. If I had to think about it, I'd forget to care, and die.
I serve no purpose being alive. I'm just taking up space.
I just can't hold onto that excitement of idea. Of seeing the completed project in my eye, and then the process of making the thought a reality, always more effort than the idea can take, and as i see that I'm not talented enough to fully realize the idea, i scrap it, rather than produce something substandard.
bah, enough of my emo ranting. I'll go find some eyeliner and razorblades in a bit.
side note:
I read the first three volumes of DMZ tonight. Really good comic(graphic novel for elitist fucks).
Also got the new 4th volume of Battle Pope, a hilarious comic.
I got Pi in the mail yesterday, one of my absolute favorite movies, and I got my other favorite movie in the mail today. Dark City.
and then when I leave, I don't just leave their house, I leave their planet. Their reality. I enter my own, encompassed entirely by my thoughts. This horrid solipsistic isolation I live in.
Brody broke up the isolation for a bit. I enjoyed having company, we'll not broach the rest of that subject. I don't like being reminded when I'm the asshole.
She did however inspire me to at least make some effort to change my studio from being a bedroom with a fridge and a stove in it, into something more of a home, with amenities and such to entertain guests.
I still don't know how to change my personality and the way I interact with people. This detachment I always seem to keep.
it's rather disappointing. I'm this horrid introvert, with all this fun baggage of suicides, strange upbringing, excentric parents, demented social interaction, failure and complications with women, and interest and ability with music, arts, singing, computers, electronics. I'm an excellent jack of all trades. but I fail at all of this because even though i spend so much time alone, I can't seem to get my inspiration and drive together to ever accomplish anything. Endless unfinished projects. I either have the potential to be an artist, an inventor, a musician, or a psychopathic murderer. but I'll never be any of these things, because I have no drive to do any of it. I go to work, because that's what i do for money. I keep breathing cause i don't have to make a conscious effort to. If I had to think about it, I'd forget to care, and die.
I serve no purpose being alive. I'm just taking up space.
I just can't hold onto that excitement of idea. Of seeing the completed project in my eye, and then the process of making the thought a reality, always more effort than the idea can take, and as i see that I'm not talented enough to fully realize the idea, i scrap it, rather than produce something substandard.
bah, enough of my emo ranting. I'll go find some eyeliner and razorblades in a bit.
side note:
I read the first three volumes of DMZ tonight. Really good comic(graphic novel for elitist fucks).
Also got the new 4th volume of Battle Pope, a hilarious comic.
I got Pi in the mail yesterday, one of my absolute favorite movies, and I got my other favorite movie in the mail today. Dark City.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
asmody:
Ya i still need to come over but once im there wtf will we do? Hmmm same thing we can do over the internet im guessing. Unless ur gonna be homebase for going to happy town, but im the founder.
almightymabel:
i hear ya, buddy