Right now I’m just shooting the shit
What is life supposed to feel like?
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I used to be majorly depressed; no syntactical magic can adequately convey the truth in that statement. I was super fucked up in the head, forealla.
Now, there is something that I thought was calm. It may possibly be growth, but it’s dangerous and just as tiring. I don’t have to keep myself sanely afloat now; I just have to fight to stay interested.
I’m bored. My life is boring, an exercise in by the book living that makes me dream of sleep at all hours. It’s annoying to be alive right now. I call this period my terrible twenties.
I can never quite grasp the way this is supposed to go. The decision making based on rational givens and doing just enough to maintain a life you wouldn’t even buy for a buck.
I’m about to move. It’s dumb in the grand scheme of rational thought and conservative living, but I need this. I can never make my father understand the things I need. He has learned to control the cravings (if there are any) and is the living example of frugality of thought. He’s always right (according to some logical sense of right and wrong somewhere in the universe) and he doesn’t do dumb shit. I’m all about dumb shit. I live to do dumb shit. My life is a lesson in buffoonery.
I am bored. To ease the boredom, this move has become a project of mine that may ruin me financially or otherwise, but is sure to bring with it some waves.
I’m not even sad, I have no idea of what that feels like anymore, at least not for myself. I can empathize with victims on TV, in the streets, in papers, but I just don’t get sad about my own life anymore, it’s pointless.
Time to ring in the New Year, as if it brings with it a concrete dividing line between last year's fuckups and this year's fuckups. As if the slate is really wiped clean. I have bad credit, fact. No amount of confetti or holiday cheer will erase that fact. It's okay though, I can deal with bullshit holidays a couple of times per year, but it's getting harder to fake the cheer. out.
