The Art of Words

I wish I had a better way to express myself because words seem to fail me most of the time. Yesterday, I poured everything I was feeling out. Afterwards, I felt better because it was out of me. It still exists, though and when people read an overwhelmingly negative screed about life in general and they are a large part of life in general, it's understandable if they feel like they have somehow failed or done me wrong. The truth is I try to write most of the time without editing myself and just let it flow. So, sometimes I say something and contradict myself right in the next paragraph. For more personal entries, I try not to read over the piece and just post it so I can see it and keep seeing it to remind myself what I was thinking. I'm not going to write like that for a review of a video game or something but it just feels disingenuous to say "I'm going to tell you what I really think" and then go back over it and change it to make it less offensive.

I know it's confusing. It's practically counter intuitive to post things that make me feel better and more focused but that leaves other people confused or hurt. Still, it might happen again and this post will have to serve as a warning until it gets buried and I have to repost the same sentiment in different words. I can't restate this enough: I want to be a better person. To get to a state where I can say "This is who I want to be", there is going to be some purging of all of this junk inside of me and I chose this place to do that. Yes, it happens to be in the same place where I write about stupid movies I watched or dumb stuff in general. It's all here, though because I want to slowly understand what I'm thinking, who I am and why I do what I do. So, if it hurts or offends, let's talk about it. If something I write leads to someone else asking a question that leads to them understanding me or even themselves better, that's better than anything else I can hope for.

Attempting to Just Do It.

Will I ever get to a regular posting schedule? Nope.

I wanted to get to a point where I could regularly post what is/was on my mind. That hasn't really been the case. I guess if I could say what I really wanted, I would mostly just vent a lot of negative feelings. My surroundings are unnecessarily competitive and I feel myself tensing up with anger and irritation on a daily basis. I try to separate and I can't do that without causing more tension. Yet I am forced to endure the needling and ribbing while there is no recourse. I have to bite my tongue because when I say what I think everyone freaks out and acts like I've committed some sort of treason just by speaking my mind. So, I die a little every day, a death of a thousand cuts.

Then there's the part of me that knows that is just over-dramatizing the situation. How many posts have I made like this now? I want to be a more positive person, I want to go back to that guy that babbled about "Just doing it" and looked forward to things. Every day, I feel like I'm moving further away from that guy. I can sometimes catch myself and rein it in but it feels less and less like I'm really being me and more and more like I'm trying to fit some sort of mold. I am not who people want me to be but by being what they want, I can't be who I want.

I'm trying to find a balance, something that can snap me out of the somnambulist waltz but there's not really anything. I'm falling further into fantasy worlds with video games and solo rpgs lending some sort of escapism but there's not really anything to escape from. Life isn't terrible but it has reached the sort of bland consistency that means I can't really argue or say that it's bad but it is not what I want.

Of course, there are things left unspoken. Although I'm not technically unemployed, I am scheduled for all of three hours this week. Having no job means not only having a lot of free time but also not having a lot of money. So, without money, I'm forced to pretty much lean on everyone else. Out of a sense of duty or obligation or debt, I'm stuck with this feeling of owing everyone for the smallest favors. On top of all this eggshell-walking, I'm constantly angry at myself for falling into this lifestyle. I'm lazy and bored with life and that means I'm the type of person I hate: the person who says they don't have enough to do and they are so bored while simultaneously wasting hours on end doing pointless stuff.

I guess that writing is the only thing that I feel is actually worth my time.

So I guess I'll try to do more of it.

I Wrote This When I Couldn't Sleep

When I was a kid and we made too much noise late at night, my dad would burst into the room in his underwear and yell some variation of "shut up!". It didn't matter if we had friends over, he'd always be in his underwear, we were always supposed to shut up. I remember thinking as a kid that when I was an adult, I would never tell a kid to shut up. I would always listen to them and try to help them with whatever keeps them up at night. But it turns out it is not that simple. The same problems that you want to stay up late at night and discuss are all going to be there in the morning and you know what else? The morning isn't really that bad if you didn't stay up until some ridiculous hour worrying about stuff instead of getting a decent amount of sleep. As a side note, people who have no reason to sleep in but somehow think it is a badge of honor to just be waking up at noon are annoying. "Whoa, hey, eating lunch, huh? Well, I'll probably have a bowl of cereal since I just woke up! Haha! Yeah, guess I'm just gonna have breakfast and then take a little nap. Whoo!" I don't know why that guy was so peppy. Anyway, the point is that I think the older I get, the more my parents start to make sense. I'll probably need a few more years before I'm just running around the house yelling in my underwear, though.