Haven’t done one of these kinds of posts in a while. Given how busy I’ve been over the course of this miserable summer, I’m not surprised. My job is one of the worst things ever and I hate being there. All I want to do is to leave. I want to just up and go. If I could, I would. I would pack all my shit and hit the road and see where I can go. Somewhere where I can live the way I want to. I’ve talked before about how being informed is a curse. The worst part about the curse is knowing that there is no way to lift it. You have to just accept how things are, and it never gets better. You can’t vote how shitty life is into office. You can’t make people aware, because then you’re pretty much spreading depression and adding to alcoholism and happy-pill dependency in this country. There’s nothing you can do except keep going and hope that you can find something to take your mind off of how miserable you are.
I recently believed in something. I believed in it so much that I was ready to commit. I took steps and I was really excited about what was to come. Now, I feel like such a fool. I feel like such a fool for wanting to believe in something that would have made things so much better. Haven’t we learned our lesson?! Haven’t we learned that happiness isn’t what life means for us?! It’s never helped us before, why start now?! Seriously, why the fuck do I keep doing this to myself? My other personality has no answers. It only tells me what I already know. I feel so lost and confused and broken. Listening to sad music and watching the hands on the clock change. It never gets better.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I just could see that there was a silver lining coming. You know, like I am going to get some kind of payout at the end of all this. I’m not a religious man, so I don’t see Heaven waiting for me. Though, that would become hell after a while. I have tried, again and again to form some kind of romantic bond, and it never works. Nobody wants me. This is a reality that I have come to accept. I still try. There must be some biological imperative that just commands me. Or maybe it’s the old leftover remnants of my inner romantic, now so beaten and broken that it just doesn’t care about anything anymore.
I’ve reached a point in my life where it’s all about ennui. I don’t really care about anything. I go to work, hating my job. I’m looking for a new one, but I know that I’ll hate it too. The thing that I hate is the ultimate reality of being a grown-up – being a grown-up. It fucking sucks! I miss the summers where I could play with my friends Griffin and Mandy. The brother I never had and the friend who means more to me than she’ll ever know. We haven’t been all that tight in the last few years. Hardly ever talk anymore, never see one-another. I think back to our summers at her place, at mine. Those summers where I didn’t have to worry about paying rent and whether or not my car was going to fall apart on me. I fucking hate this! I want to be having fun! I want my friends! I want to get out of this place and fly away! I want my warm summer days spent doing whatever and not caring what people thought.
But we’ll never get that back. It’s gone now, and it will never return. I suppose I could get married and have kids. Oh, right, not the slightest bit attractive. Never mind. I guess I’ll just keep at it. What was Theodore’s line in “Her?”
“I can’t decide between video games and Internet porn.”
Yeah, the future sure does look fun.
Part of me wonders if I am going to become the ending to the song by Don McLean, “Vincent.” Maybe that’s how it ends for me. But I keep going. What else can I do?
Until next time, a quote,
“And when no hope was left inside on that starry, starry night, you took your life as lovers often do. But I could have told you Vincent – this world was never meant for one as beautiful as you.” -Don McLean, Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)