My blog has turned into two things. One is me going on and on about how pathetic I am. The other is my ranting about the godforsaken political situation in this country. It’s as if my sense of humor has taken a monster shit and been flushed down the loo. It does not exist anymore, at least in writing. I am not sure though that I ever had it. I just had these magical moments where things came to me and I wrote them down, but they are gone now. Or maybe it was just that I was not living in mental chaos all the time. Lately I feel as if I live in mental chaos, in this box where I just want to know what the fuck it is that I want out of life and I go for it. But the times I’ve known what I want and gone for it have been monumental failures, so I have really almost given up trying. Well, I don’t know about that, but I’ve not known exactly what I want for ages, and that has been a big part of the problem. Recently, I have figured out exactly what it is that I want, but it is one of those things that requires others on board and I have not exactly figured out how to present these desires to the other parties involved. The result is that I mope about wanting these things, wondering if they are the right things to want, waffling whether I actually do want them, then wondering again if I do in fact want them how to present these things to other involved parties. It’s a conundrum, I can assure you.
As it is I just spin time, organizing my room, thinking about things I want to write, sitting at the computer and staring, trying to remember what it was I sat down for, then getting up and wandering over to my bed to stare at the wall, continuing in my humorless vein. It’s a good time. It’s such a good time I am going to do it again right now because I am tired. Good night.