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.
A concern for the 20 something (for some reason)
Why do i feel so empty and missing something,
When i’ve got so much, much to be grateful for?
Still it’s not enough.
Is it ever enough?
Is this it?
As good as it gets?
Is it worth the constant shuffle - in search of
What?
Possession? Love? Belonging?
I look at other people and envy what they’ve got
Wonder why i haven’t
How i’m different, what i do wrong.
They’ve got a relationship i’ve never achieved.
Is it because i don’t want it,
Don’t require it
Don’t need it
Have enough already?
But i want it.
I feel worthless compared to my friends who have it.
Directionless
And pointless.
In theory.
Not all the time. There are other things to measure worth.
I’m good, helpful, passionate, concerned, but that one special person doesn’t see it.
I don’t know who that person is,
Maybe they’re already here and i won’t notice
Until i see the grass isn’t greener.
I wish i could be content with what i’ve got.
I’m happy but i’m always searching for more.
But that might be what keeps me alive.
It’s disheartening and makes me bitterer by the day.
It concerns me more at the beginning of a morning,
Probably because i have a chance to make a change.
Friends have advice, reasoning, explainations,
There isn’t one answer but many,
I don’t know what my answer is.
I take my decisions from the advice of others,
Too much perhaps.
I’m a sponge.
But not a weak push-over sponge.
By the end of the day i no longer care,
I relax, it’s been a write off day, but a good one,
I’ve had fun, i’ve grown tired and dreams welcome me back to bed.
Obligations here, jobs to do there, “drive me home please”,
All day all day every day,
i suppose that’s life
I’m needing something that’s mine though,
To bring pleasure and purpose.
A building, a person, a place,
I’m not sure.
A sign or a path to show me which way,
But no such luck.
So it seems it’s all down to me.
Damn.
How come life appears to happen to others and i have to make life work for me?
People will tell me that’s not true.
But then that means i’m wrong, not right,
Me
A bad egg,
Worse
An unattractive egg,
For pounding purposes only.
Don’t think i think little of myself.
I’ve been told that by older, wiser people all my life
And it makes it worse, perpetuates the feeling,
It’s bollocks.
I like me,
It’s other people that aren’t that amazed.
It could be argued that i shouldn’t need all this acceptance,
Desire from other people,
Blame my programming.
Blasts from the past & presenting yourself
..this new virtual, internet-based social existence we have nowadays perplexes and worries me sometimes. I find it weird how we’re expected to present ourselves on websites such as myspace and facebook through our interests, favourite films etc. Well, in fact it isn’t the method that bothers me as such, it’s just, how is a person, random or friend, supposed to get an honest picture of you when your representing yourself? I mean, you could say you were into anything and endeavor to make yourself sound as interesting and attractive as you wanted and no one could disprove it and you could actually be a right moron. Oh, i don’t know… i just think it’s rather fake and too open to interpretation. i’m finding it tres difficile to explain my unease. I guess, being a pretty honest and non egotisitcal individual i wouldn’t big myself up to sound amazing and therefore might not be held in such high esteem by readers of my profile when i actually deserved to be. I think i rely on people to see the least obvious traits of my personality, because they’re are the ones most important to me/the best ones. But then i don’t think other people are generally as deep or offbeat in thinking as i presume they are.. I might be wrong. I think it all comes down to wondering if i do have a soulmate out there.. or maybe i’ve already found her and am at the peak and have nothing much else to aim for. Are we all always searching? Is it the search that keeps us going? Do i feel like Carrie Bradshaw from ‘Sex and the city’ while i’m writing this? The answer is YES 
The reason this whole issue is prevalent in my mind is because last weekend i saw a couple of lads from school i hadn’t seen for years in a local pub. Anyway, despite imagining that the old school prejudices/embarassments (i’m trying to think of a particular word here, but can’t call it to mind) would remain, i was pleasantly suprised to find that they’d grown up and were polite and friendly and interested. (one of these lads, incidently, was my all-time high school crush and i nearly died of a fear/embarrassment attack when he entered the pub (i relaxed quite considerably later on). I also had a few sexual encounters with him but he never regarded me that highly, although i don’t think he hated me cos i’m not a biatch. Actually he was rather in love with one of my best friends (and she him secretly) but they never progressed further than them being flirting friends)
ANYWAY, I’m his myspace friend now and from what he says about himself he’s, y’know, spiritual and mature and all. One of his girl friends has written lots of comments on his page so i looked at her profile to see what she was about and she’s just soooo pathetic and girly! (e.g her mum and dad are her heroes, she luuurves men and bedroom things, oh god and she’s seems just completely girly and pink and fluffy and illiterate) I guess it wouldn’t annoy me so much, it’s just that before uni i think i was a bit more like that, i wouldn’t be embarrassed about saying i loved my family or being flirtatious and man/relationship-driven. But throughout uni i had to change and grow to fit in with my new group of friends who were more feminist-oriented and respectful of intelligence and strength and other things i don’t have words for. So i think i still feel that girly deep down. The things i desire, such as a home and a family and a husband, are all still there but they’re disguised behind this new me who is more cynical and harder to penetrate and get close to. Well that’s what it feels like anyway. I’m sure most of my friends from before uni would say i’m the same as i ever was. When i think about it, the new, developed me is more like a defence shield. I don’t feel as if i can be hurt by somebody else half as easily as i used to, which is empowering and makes me feel very secure and independent. But with this independence and self-sufficiency comes a certain amount of lonliness and a craving for emotional excitment, which i’m not sure if i could handle or not.
When i think this deeply everything in my world seems topsy turvey and complicated, then i know it’s time to think shallower again, otherwise depression and dissatisfaction will inevitably spread. I should write a conclusion to my thoughts really and i would like to but my brain is tired like it would be at the end of a school-hall-style exam and my eyes are dry and tired. I think i will lie down and read my bedtime book and have 40 winks.
Let me take you down…
Why am i the way that i am? Why do i feel like i’d rather be dead than alive? It sounds so selfish because i have a home, a loving family, food, water. I don’t witness or feel suffering hardly ever. If i don’t appreciate what i have then surely i’m not worthy. Give my privileged life to someone else. I hate living just for myself. Day in day out i have only myself to think about and i hate it. Too much time to myself. But i also hate work.
I had a break (and a cry) and now i remember that it’s PMS and not something unusual or concretely an issue. Every month i have this, sometimes twice or more, and it is shit. I seriously consider suicide everytime but know i couldn’t do it for my family’s sake. Also because i know deep down it is only a fleeting emotion – a couple of days, which makes it feel even more pointless. I feel bitter, jealous, guilty and sorry for myself and want to tell people exactly what i think of them. I like to smack myself just to get it out somehow, but it’s like a balloon full of air when someone’s squeezing the neck so it only comes out in squeaky squeals – not nearly enough to deflate and relax it.
I’m calmer now. It’ll still be an effort to be friendly towards my family at Sunday lunch but hopefully they’ll understand on some level. I’ll have a rollie on the drive over to calm my spirits. Ok, rant over. It’s even worse that it’s PMT. Not many people take it seriously (especially men, and even myself most of the time). FUCK EVERYTHING.
