The future never looked as if it would ever be peachy. I mean, I'm the worlds greatest procrastinator. There's always been this little voice that's told me I'm never going to actually become anything in this world. Not because I'm not smart enough (hey, I'm sure I could push a line of supermarket trolleys just as well as the next Bloggs), but because well frankly - I just can't be assed.
Well that, and my absolute fear of stuffing up. Like when I was doing admin at a Rest Home last year, and I had two faxes to send. One to Triage and one to Plastics. Two different hospitals. I sent them to the wrong hospitals and for the wrong patients to boot... Oh let's not go into my founded fears of failure right now huh? (Let's not also mention that the stuff up was mainly attributed to utter exhaustion from being up all night on the net.)
Offline friends. They have nooo idea what the hell is up with me these days. I'm a different person online than I am offline. Online I'm the way I once was out there in the 'real' world - chirpy, moody, crazy, self-absorbed, friendly... your basic contradicting hodge podge.
Offline, I'm just vague. My mind is always far far away from whatever discussion 'whoever' is trying to engage me in. Net-absorbed. I swear my soul has literally infused itself with my computer. I mean, when I'm away from it, I'm absolutely empty. Disconnected. From everything. Even my friends. My family. Myself.
Oooh but guess what? Angela's got the net now - just today in fact. So I figure on trying as hard as possible to turn her into a net addict so she can emphasise with just how hard it is to function without it. (Ang if you happen to be reading this, I uh, I never said that...) Nicky's got net but she's immune to net-junkieism. In fact, she's on the verge of telling me to get stuffed because I haven't rung her in two months (not my fault man, net addiction!) but hey, she's got msn! She knows where to find me... *sigh*
Truth be told, we've really drifted apart. More often than not, the silences are uncomfortable ones. Sometimes talking to offline friends is even kinda stressful. They're not interested in my interests - I've become someone they just can't relate to anymore. And I'm no longer fussed about their interests because I'm far too absorbed... (gee, aint that obvious?) And I'm just too damn bitchy to do a single thing about it.
I find myself just fumbling and feeling like shit. I trying to not talk about my own interests to my offline friends, because I know how much they hate them. Thing is, it falls out of my mouth... babble about the latest fic I'm writing or the website I'm shoving together... and their eyes just glaze over. Or, they mock me for being so lame. I don't blame them I guess. But still, while they're complaining that I don't talk to them much anymore, they're not seeing the fact that half the reason why I've given up, is because it damn well hurts when they take the piss out of something that means alot to me.
I've got online friends who I'm incredibly comfortable talking to. It's strange, although we don't know each others pasts, and we don't really know each others interests outside of the net, we spend hours gas-bagging. Our common bond is our love of living online, and Dark Angel. Sure if we were come face to face in a room with each other, we'd most likely be completely lacking in things to say. But we communicate best with written words. And as much as my online friends know little about me beyond the 'superficial' surface, I know that in some ways, they know me far better than my offline friends ever will. Well, the 'me' that's gone though a lot of meta-morpheas over the past year anyway. (no, the change certainly isn't all good. After all, I've lost all past goals and instead decided that all I want to do with my life is write. Yeah. Real winner Cal.)
Yeah, yeah. I know. One day I'm going to wake up and wonder what the hell I've done with my life. And by the time I ask myself this, I'll be too damn old to do much at all except drool down my chin. I have the foresight to see I'm going to end up incredibly alone one day, and wishing dreadfully to turn back time and make an effort with life outside my own self.
But... I'm like
Sisyphus. Destined to push the metaphorical boulder up the hill, only to have it slip from my grasp and roll back down again once I reach the top. And of course, off I trot to start the process all over again. I don't learn from mistakes. I just continue to dig myself into my own self-fulfilling catacomb.