So much for avoiding depressing journal entries. Don't say I didn't try. But the fact is, I am depressed. Not nearly as depressed as I was this time last year, though--and how fucking bizarre is that? At least now I have reasons to feel like shit...and I do. But it could be worse.
I have two problems: hypocrisy and lifestyle. I shall discuss these in general terms, so as to avoid an insanely long entry.
1. Lifestyle: I'm back to my routine, more or less. It's depressing. It's echoes of T.S. Eliot (I have measured out my life in coffee spoons). I see my life spread out, before and behind me, as little more than records acquired, books read, and cigarettes smoked. Is this my future? Another several hundred albums bought and repeatedly listened to, tens of thousands more pages worth of literature read?
Don't get me wrong, I love these things. Of course I do, that's why I do them. But is that all I was placed on this Earth for, to be a fucking culture-junkie?
A strange thought occured to me not long ago. I was doing something so utterly normal that I can't even remember what, and I just stopped. Every muscle seized, and I asked myself What am I doing with my life?
Seriously. Not just in terms of how I kill time, but in terms of, say, goals. What happened to those? What the fuck am I doing after graduation?
I really have no idea. And that just started to get really, really scary.
2. Hypocrisy*: I'm not talking about mine, though I'm also not going to pretend to perfection. I have my many flaws, I'm all-too aware of them, and I do what I can about them. I believe in constant personal evolution for a reason.
It's hypocrisy in others that bothering me right now. At least, that's why I'm angry. I'd be hurt irregardless. It's her right, certainly, and I acknowledge that I did something similar not so long ago. But she was upset by that. She yelled at me for that. And now, not even three weeks later, she does the same thing. There's your anger. There's your hurt.
I just wish it weren't so much harder to crawl out of love than it is to fall into it.
*Allow me to add that I don't mind self-aware hypocrisy. It's the oblivious kind that get's to me.
Actually, any form of obliviousness get's to me.
I have two problems: hypocrisy and lifestyle. I shall discuss these in general terms, so as to avoid an insanely long entry.
1. Lifestyle: I'm back to my routine, more or less. It's depressing. It's echoes of T.S. Eliot (I have measured out my life in coffee spoons). I see my life spread out, before and behind me, as little more than records acquired, books read, and cigarettes smoked. Is this my future? Another several hundred albums bought and repeatedly listened to, tens of thousands more pages worth of literature read?
Don't get me wrong, I love these things. Of course I do, that's why I do them. But is that all I was placed on this Earth for, to be a fucking culture-junkie?
A strange thought occured to me not long ago. I was doing something so utterly normal that I can't even remember what, and I just stopped. Every muscle seized, and I asked myself What am I doing with my life?
Seriously. Not just in terms of how I kill time, but in terms of, say, goals. What happened to those? What the fuck am I doing after graduation?
I really have no idea. And that just started to get really, really scary.
2. Hypocrisy*: I'm not talking about mine, though I'm also not going to pretend to perfection. I have my many flaws, I'm all-too aware of them, and I do what I can about them. I believe in constant personal evolution for a reason.
It's hypocrisy in others that bothering me right now. At least, that's why I'm angry. I'd be hurt irregardless. It's her right, certainly, and I acknowledge that I did something similar not so long ago. But she was upset by that. She yelled at me for that. And now, not even three weeks later, she does the same thing. There's your anger. There's your hurt.
I just wish it weren't so much harder to crawl out of love than it is to fall into it.
*Allow me to add that I don't mind self-aware hypocrisy. It's the oblivious kind that get's to me.
Actually, any form of obliviousness get's to me.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
cipher, wins
smoking!
fatality
friendship
ah good ol cipher, yes thats a fine christian name
Boy, existentialism is the soma for a lazy philosopher. I made that up, but there is something there.