Alright. So it’s been awhile since I last posted. Months. Well, there have been several big changes since then. But, they don’t matter. Not as much as the one big thing looming overhead which has stayed the same.
When last I posted, I was feeling pretty miserable about life. Enough that I wanted to set the world ablaze. I was angry. That actually has a lot to do with why I haven’t been back here in so long. Well, I still am. But I’ve lost my motivation. I don’t care to set the world, or even my block, on fire.
Instead I just kind of have been targeting myself. How worthless am I, that I do nothing ever? How pathetic that I merely sit in my depression and self-loathing, a dark little hole where all I feel is misery? Why not extract myself, birth into the world, become that which I am not? Because it’s too hard? Because it’s not what I want? No. I just have no motivation. I feel no reason. Things that I want, I want later. If ever. Except for instant self-gratification, though even that has been slow coming as of late.
It doesn’t help to be berated and reminded day after day about how much I don’t do anything. Especially when I’m trying to write, or trying to think to write, or trying to come up with some new idea about how to do something, how to make the world better, or at least different from my own designs. Trying to make some small mark upon the soil from my own perspective. Ultimately, that means I’m trying, doesn’t it? But all I am reminded of is how much the electricity cost, or how long it’s been since I have been home from school, or how I don’t have a job. How I apparently am not doing anything worthwhile. And, if that is the case-If I am doing nothing that has worth-Does that not make me worthless?
I don’t have an answer here. I don’t know what to do. I know what I won’t do. I won’t become some poor S.O.B. working day in day out for a meager existence which gives me no pride or pleasure in the results of my labor. So, that leaves me with continuing to accept the mental anguish of being worthless. Or trying something else. Leaving, perhaps, for some far away, to do who knows what? A grand adventure, likely to end up something like Into the Wild with me dying of starvation in a burnt out bus in Alaska? Or perhaps I take out the middle man and just end life myself? Neither seems like a solution to me. So what do I do? Thus far, my ideas - trying to get short stories published, getting noticed on a blog that admittedly I don’t post anywhere close to often enough on, and a small modicum of other ideas which have mostly remained in the realm of the mind - haven’t worked. So, what do I do?
