scylis

i feel big and important by posting here and getting responses. like i'm actually somebody, you know? i had forgotten how that felt. i used to be really active on a few forums years ago, just before and just after i moved to Anchorage in 2001. i'm so much more confidant and sound (read?) a whole lot better online than in person. well, normally. it's just so much easier when people can't hear me stammer or deal with seconds worth of pauses while i try to remember simple... umm... things... that you read or speak? that have letters in them? words! yeah, those. i forget the ones i require for use a lot.

but the internet is a lot nicer. i can start writing a post or a reply, run into a snag, look something up, possible how to spell something, and come back and post it all without you all knowing about the pauses, making me look slick as shit. but i'm not, really.

honestly, i'm horribly depressed. like a lot of people seem to be right now. i guess it's that whole "taking stock of one's life" everybody is supposed to do this time of year. get set up for the coming year, or whatever. only problem is, so very many people take stock and realize that life sucks, and then you die. then they have a breakdown, find help (or booze or drugs), "get back on their feet," and get on with life. or they die of self-inflicted stupidity. it's annoying and depressing.

now, i'm not going to try to give you all a good tonguing and a reach-around to try to convince you how life these days is wonderful, what with all the porn and internet goodness and all other sorts of shit at your fingertips. life is honestly what we make of it, and no amount of porn (or lack there of) is going to affect that. and for the most part, life seems geared to break people down and crush their spirit, but that stuff is all too easy to focus on. there's plenty of good things to it too, like kittens and anal sex and Mr. Pibb (do you know how hard it is to find that shit up here? Dr. Pepper is bottled by Coke up here, since the good Dr. is fairly independent these days, so they don't sell Mr. Pibb here. in Anchorage, at least), but you have to want to see those in order to do so.

me? i'll be honest: my life sucks. because i'm not really making anything of it. which is really stupid and a waste, i admit. i mean, i've got an IQ of 160+ without sweating (hooray self-aggrandizement!), yet i work at Wal*Mart. a place where if you could add people's IQs together, i beat most any two people combined. by the Lords of Kobol, that is so unbelievably frustrating, it makes me want to punch babies. i barely make enough to pay the bills and rent a place by myself, have a car that's legal to drive, and feed myself. i know i should be doing better, something more, because i can, easily. i just don't. i don't know why, i just don't. i scrape by and call it good enough. that's due in no small part to not really knowing what i want to do in the first place. well, in the realm of reality, anyway. i know what i wish i could be and what i would have set myself to be if i didn't have a heart condition: i'd be flying million dollar fighters and trying very hard to be the best. thank Top Gun for that dream.[1]

still, i'm sure there's something out there for me, but i'm just way too apathetic to do anything about it. same with face to face social interaction. and relationships. my current "relationship" involves me, a bottle of lube, and my fleshlight,[2] for instance. oh, and brushing regularly, too. we'll just say that i was going to be a pirate for halloween, and i didn't need to do anything to my teeth to make them look "period." i could go on and on, but i'll not, because it's basically me whining, is all, and you don't want to hear that.

still,for me it boils down to the fact that while life really rather sucks for me, it really beats the alternative, i think: nothing.[3] because my vision of life after death is that there isn't one. whenever i get too down in a funk, i just remind myself of that little fact and keep scraping by. but really, there are plenty more, better reasons to manage to scrape by at the very least. like kitties and significant others (if applicable) and Mr. Pibb.

you just got to stop yer bitchin' and see them.[4] and for the love of Mr. Pibb, if you've got someone that cares about you (who's not forced to due to familial obligations), that means you're at least somewhat worthwhile to someone.[5] and i doubt they'd appreciate stupid, bonehead maneuvers involving you and death. even dentists, who've had some of the highest suicide rates this side of lemmings.

[1]: on a side tangent, i wanted nothing else than to fly F-14s specifically. as if to further shit on my failed hopes and dreams, the government retired the F-14 in 2006. on my birthday. completely ruined my day. fuckers.

[2]: yes, i bought one. they're actually quite nice. they're just a little time consuming with preparation and clean up.

[3]: coincidentally, the most brutal, Metal present ever.

[4]: i have to force myself to look regularly. usually with a magnifying glass and a pair of padded tweezers.

[5]: after having that one beaten over my head enough, i came around.

[f]: (which doesn't appear above because it's tied to something from the beginning of the blog, and i don't want to reorder it all, i'm that lazy) there's so many people who've made horribly self-deprecating blogs this last week or so, it's depressing. cheer the fuck up or i will hunt you down and kill you.