Later on…
Ok. Darkness has once again fallen over the land and none of which came before matters anymore. Night time has a calming influence. The day is over and restful sleep awaits. Until soon it starts all over again. But this is a good time so I will embrace it and enjoy. I’m sure I’ve said all this before, but i really do love the night. I like the feel of sunshine on my skin though, it has to be said. I put the negativity earlier on down to awaking very late, in fact just 4 hours before my shift at work, it makes me feel like i’ve wasted time and not achieved anything and that puts me on edge for some reason. Anyway night, to whoever.
feeling better
Ok, i’ve cleaned, done some stuff and meditated and i feel better. I don’t even know who I am talking to here, it’s gotta stop really. This world is pioneering and we have no evidence what effect it is going to have on our psychological states. Meditating was a positive experience. My tape deck on my stereo just bodged up and i was angry at it. But now it doesn’t matter anymore. I don’t know what matters in life really. This is my main problem. My brain and soul aren’t concerned with any particular outcome anymore. I’ve nothing to prove because nobody seems to turn their heads no matter what i do. I guess it’s the same for all of us. If i died, it would only essentially affect me, others, perhaps for a while, but they’d get over it, which is good. But my perspective is only my own and no one else fully shares it. Ever. They may for a while, then things change and everything starts over again. I guess i’m always seeking acceptance and reassurance from outside things, be it people, drugs, grades. I guess we all do in a way, some of us are aware we are. I think it’s good to be self-reliant, self-assured, and not need anything but your own mind, but i think i do that a lot anyway. So many of my peers have more bolstering, esteem-boosting (there’s is a word and I’m desperately seeking it) other people in their lives, it seems, than i do, and they’re the ones who give me advice?? why should i listen to other people anymore. I know i ask for it, but i won’t anymore. I hate to be ignorant or closed-off, but advice makes me feel small, as if the people giving it are so much saner and with it than i am, when i know they’re not.
I’m too analytical i know. I should just stop thinking and get on with it. I don’t like being negative about myself in front of others anymore. So this is why i want to end this internet malarky. I was happier when it was broken. But i don’t want to cut myself off either. Am I the only one who feels this contradiction? Actually maybe don’t answer that. I seek empathy, yet I also want to be different from others.
Goodbye, if I follow this through
I wonder if i’ll lose this babbling somewhere in the process as always seems to happen on this cruddy ‘write a post’ page for some messed up reason. I’m angry. I’m up late and I’m devoid of friends and excitement, that’s what It feels like at this time. I don’t need your advice, I can deal with my emotions. I could say so many things now, feelings of hatred and grievances that feel so real, but later, when I’m in a happier mood, I regret writing, and I know people who read this, so really I’m not going to say anything I really think right now for fear of regretting it. In short I feel rather friendless, pointless and livid and I don’t think i need my friends because they bring more emotional baggage and changing opinions than it’s worth. but I can’t really say that cos my friends might leave me, not that it would make much difference. But also I don’t like doing this because i don’t want people to know my weaknesses and what I’m feeling inside, so i should just shut it. I want to delete this profile as well as facebook, because it brings me more sadness than happiness. PURGE MY LIFE OF THIS VIRTUAL EXISTENCE
Broken sleep in the afternoon caused this
I started writing from the me and inadvertantly deleted it all, in a freak slight of keyboard action. Was it meant to be/ i think it was/ I write when I’m uptight, time passes, i feel better and i regret writing it/ I like to write but i like to write then run away from it and only look back when the time and the feeling is long gone. only then can it be pleasurable. i can never be too sure of what i’m saying, i am often extreme and sweeping if i don’t check myself. I’m bored of my microscopic analytical delving now. Why do blokes and women go for the same ones all the time/ I’m so bored of it. I fancy so and so. Oh what a suprise! I have asked myself, is it pure jealousy, and no i don’t think it is. I guess history repeating itself again and again with the same types is doing my head in and I’m waiting for the record to change and for someone I desire to want me in the way i want them to. I’m beginning to believe I have a mixed up soul that thinks it wants something then rejects it as soon as it arrives. But, no, i can’t remember a single time it has happened so I guess i haven’t had the break.
