OK.
Sitting here thinking about nothing. Honestly, TRYING to think about nothing. Perhaps I want to start outlining this world I have stuck in my brain and perhaps I just want to have my heart stop so I can stop feeling this way. I mean, if you still think about your ex after 2-3 years, is there something terribly wrong with you?
Jesus if I fall in love again would someone please spare me and spend a $1.50 on a bullet? Then kindly place that in a compatible firearm and SHOOT ME!!! I mean seriously, I would have rather just been shot.
I have this roleplaying/fictional world I have been dreaming up. I bill it as a "dark fantastic magipunk in a futuristic world" or something like that. Essentially it is biotech, hard technology and magic all combined into this stratified futuristic cyberpunk like setting. Magic has combined and fuels the technology. It has this sexiness loss of power BDSM thing going on in the background but that's only one aspect of it.
I started writing a story for it but haven't finished. I outlined part of the setting and haven't finished that either. I am supposed to be prepping a roleplaying game, but I haven't finished that either. Did I mention my web site redesign? Yep. Not finished. My almost seven different roleplaying systems I started? Nope, haven't finished those either.
I have ADD so bad right now I am surprised I finish going to the bathroom these days.
Oh, and that is nothing new to those who know me. Most demonstrate kind patience listening to my hair brained ideas like mothers who nod and affirm while focused on something else. It is kind of nice in some ways. I mean, I don't HAVE to be accountable because people expect me to be a flaky unfinished ADD-raddled freak. It comes with the Trent now, no additional purchase necessary.
I don't really feel anything right now. I just do shit. I do it like a robot sweeps the floor for three years after someone tells it to and forgets to stop back in and give it something else to do. I am a fat robot on autopilot. Outstanding. Where is that fucking plug
Oh. Back to the journal thing. So I am going to multi-post my diatribes to Suicide Girls, My Space, and Yahoo 360 (all I care to do right now). I might resurrect my Live Journal, but I am not sure yet. Of course, if this is like any other thing I try to do, it will remain unfinished. Perhaps my rekindling of my discipline will begin with daily journal blog postings? I mean, I can do that, right?? (this is the part where you nof your head and say "uh huh" while attending to more important thoughts)
At some point I need to be inspired. A gorgeous selfless young muse could do the trick but I am not holding my breath at the moment. I doubt I am in the mindset for it anyways.
OK, so off to bed where I will breathe like Darth Vadar on my CPAP machine and have these amazingly vivid dreams of which I can't remember when I wake up (except that my dreams kicked ass). Then I get to wake up and head off to my soul sucking corporate job as a middle manager where I can make awesome decisions like "do I fire the guy who's wife just died because of performance issues or give him 2 weeks bereavement even though that could derail the project?" Oh yeah folks. Super fun.
If you see my soul out there wandering about dazed and lost, could you tell it I miss him and to come home soon? Thanks.
Good night. Perhaps you can read me again tomorrow.
Sitting here thinking about nothing. Honestly, TRYING to think about nothing. Perhaps I want to start outlining this world I have stuck in my brain and perhaps I just want to have my heart stop so I can stop feeling this way. I mean, if you still think about your ex after 2-3 years, is there something terribly wrong with you?
Jesus if I fall in love again would someone please spare me and spend a $1.50 on a bullet? Then kindly place that in a compatible firearm and SHOOT ME!!! I mean seriously, I would have rather just been shot.
I have this roleplaying/fictional world I have been dreaming up. I bill it as a "dark fantastic magipunk in a futuristic world" or something like that. Essentially it is biotech, hard technology and magic all combined into this stratified futuristic cyberpunk like setting. Magic has combined and fuels the technology. It has this sexiness loss of power BDSM thing going on in the background but that's only one aspect of it.
I started writing a story for it but haven't finished. I outlined part of the setting and haven't finished that either. I am supposed to be prepping a roleplaying game, but I haven't finished that either. Did I mention my web site redesign? Yep. Not finished. My almost seven different roleplaying systems I started? Nope, haven't finished those either.
I have ADD so bad right now I am surprised I finish going to the bathroom these days.
Oh, and that is nothing new to those who know me. Most demonstrate kind patience listening to my hair brained ideas like mothers who nod and affirm while focused on something else. It is kind of nice in some ways. I mean, I don't HAVE to be accountable because people expect me to be a flaky unfinished ADD-raddled freak. It comes with the Trent now, no additional purchase necessary.
I don't really feel anything right now. I just do shit. I do it like a robot sweeps the floor for three years after someone tells it to and forgets to stop back in and give it something else to do. I am a fat robot on autopilot. Outstanding. Where is that fucking plug
Oh. Back to the journal thing. So I am going to multi-post my diatribes to Suicide Girls, My Space, and Yahoo 360 (all I care to do right now). I might resurrect my Live Journal, but I am not sure yet. Of course, if this is like any other thing I try to do, it will remain unfinished. Perhaps my rekindling of my discipline will begin with daily journal blog postings? I mean, I can do that, right?? (this is the part where you nof your head and say "uh huh" while attending to more important thoughts)
At some point I need to be inspired. A gorgeous selfless young muse could do the trick but I am not holding my breath at the moment. I doubt I am in the mindset for it anyways.
OK, so off to bed where I will breathe like Darth Vadar on my CPAP machine and have these amazingly vivid dreams of which I can't remember when I wake up (except that my dreams kicked ass). Then I get to wake up and head off to my soul sucking corporate job as a middle manager where I can make awesome decisions like "do I fire the guy who's wife just died because of performance issues or give him 2 weeks bereavement even though that could derail the project?" Oh yeah folks. Super fun.
If you see my soul out there wandering about dazed and lost, could you tell it I miss him and to come home soon? Thanks.
Good night. Perhaps you can read me again tomorrow.