This morning felt like a cop out. That and I’m feeling like splooging some more in this direction. Watch your eyes.
Today brings me, not lamenting, more contemplating my whole addiction thing. I have potential, I do. I’m super smart, pretty good looking, and rather charming. I have lots going on for me. I squander much of it. At least, I feel as though I do. Most my life, my time and efforts are vested into this one thing. The computer. I honestly do not think I am capable of modulating myself emotionally without it. Without it I have terrible anxiety and panic attacks. The whole motivational system in my brain goes into crisis mode and all systems are allocated towards getting the computer back.
Where there’s a will; there’s a way, right? I believe that saying fervently. I have an over abundance of will, I think every addict does. Only problem is that will is misdirected. Broken.
No, I’m not at all tragically unique. There are millions out there like me. I pity each of them as much as I pity myself. Feels weird to put that out there, terribly selfish. I’ll keep it there.
Reflecting upon my life and my accomplishments or lack thereof, I am faced time and time again, something is wrong. I concede that the “wrong” here could be my whole approach to this thing called life. It could be. I doubt it seriously, though. I doubt it because I’ve tried it tons of different ways, different times, different desperations. The same result just keeps coming back. Me in front of the computer.
I’ve given up. The fight in me ain’t what it used to be. The weight and accumulation of my perspective failures has taken my legs out from me. Broken? A heavy sigh and a nod with downcast eyes. Yeah. Yeah, I’m broken.
Currently my theory is: it’s all bigger than me. Outside my realm of control. I can’t help it. It’s not my fault. Convenient, maybe. But that’ my conclusion thus far. You’ll find among all addicts, or people trying to repress their nature a common theme. Repress. Repress in a healthy way. A monk like existence. Pray, meditate, find the peace. No resentments, acknowledge what you can’t change. Practice acceptance.
I’m striving for all that. I earnestly am. Sometimes I’m more successful than others. Still, I try.
I almost missed writing this. Not the best of signs. Especially considering I nearly missed it because of falling into bad habits. Or old habits. Whichever.
Happy Halloween. No kids came trick or treating again this year. I ate the bag of candy myself. left me sick. I’m still sick. Also ran out of coffee yesterday. So I got that going for me today as I try my darnedest to wake the fuck up. I’ll be sure to notify you when I do.
My buddy and I played video games into the night, last night. He’s a good friend, so even if the video games are damning and my bane, it was worth it. I really need to allot more time to him. My brother too for that matter.
I blink as I look at the post just a few days old with pie in the sky ambitions. Grandiose, lofty goals . . . story of my life. I was fueled by a few things upon making those claims. Feeling rejected by my girlfriend is one, feeling pitied by my brother would be the other. Both have been telling me I need some direction in my life. To their credit, they’re both right. I have been wandering a bit much a bit long.
But when the sting of disappointing them no longer throbs, the motivations seems to wane, too. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not giving up. Just condemning myself to this. I need something to commit to. Some god damned way to give back. With my limited resources, traits, and what-have-you’s, this is what I got. It ain’t much, but this is what I got.
Yesterday evening met me with bad habits. Or, I was practicing bad habits I’ve know for too long now. This morning, too, for that matter. I get tired of the fight a lot faster than I used to. I’m showing my age. You know that spark in me you saw in the first three posts? Faded. I am who I am and who I am is hard to change in this environment.
Still, I get credit for coming here and scribbling something down. If you’re looking for something magnificent, now’s not the time. I feel as though I can barely string a sentence together, let alone making that sentence have merit. Oh well, at least I’m here, soon my writing pecks will be swollen and rippled and accentuated with a revealing t-shirt.
There are times with my woman when I can’t help but feel as though I’ve been manipulated. Turns out I’m pretty easy to manipulate. The dull feeling of uncertainty hiding some shame and guilt. They aren’t far off in the distance, just within sight. Almost stalking. Waiting for that moment of weakness.
I need her though. Just like she needs me. Tough times and our personality traits make this truth painfully obvious. The love is there too, you know. We enjoy one another’s company very much. That first couple of sentences are valid and there, but don’t think they out weigh the next couple of sentences. Cause they don’t.
So I’m supposed to write a book, huh? That’s what I said in my first super ambitious post here. Write a free novel for all to read. Write the great American novel and make no money off of it. Money or recognition. Sounds eerily like my art career. Blah, I digress. I’m just being nervous and trying to diminish my spirit or the spirit fo accomplishing something grand.
I do believe I can write something, and write something well. It’s the commitment. The lengthly practice of it. I’m the type of feller who, when into something, I’m way into it. Which is good. I love that fascination. Trouble is the burn out factor. That burn out factor has cost me a lot of accomplishments in the past. A lot. I’m sure it’s more common than just in me. I’m not tragically unique. That recognized, I have a deep reverence for it.
I am girding my loins in preparation for the burn out factor. I need to do something, in spite of myself. I’d rather have this skill set than being great at Star Craft 2. Not even great, moderately good.
OK, enough bemoaning. I gots me a plot to create.