It’s november 13, 2014. The previous post in this page was made in November 10, 2013. So it’s been about a year then. Legit, one year and two days. I mean, is that destiny or something? I swear I wasn’t even checking. I didn’t even know. I didn’t even KNOW.
So maybe i’ll start writing here again. I know I say that every year, but I kinda sorta mean it this time I swear. I’m gonna use this blog to write a bunch of automatic, random, having-to-do-with-stuff-that-has-been-going-on-with-me stuff here.
Expect all sorts of stuff, ladies and gentlemen. Recipes, Movie Reviews, book reviews, pool reviews, depressive poems, happy prose, incredible deals, sci-fi stories, deep analysis of complicated machinery, retellings of romantic misadventures, letters of hate to women I used to love, letters of love to women I used to hate. Physical descriptions of both female and male bodies, and all kinds of nonsense. Particularly nonsense.
Also, expect the overall tone of the blog to change from deep depression, to black comedy and sarcasm. Not that sarcasm wasn’t present already.
Anyway, thank you very much for reading.
Whoever you are.
Let’s write great stuff together.
Oh my, that was tiring. That last post was quite tiring to write but I LOVED it. Writing in second person helps enhance the reader experience, but I’m infinitely sorry if this one affects you in a negative way. Also, making a run-on sentence using only the word ‘and’ as a connector could make reading difficult, but it definitely helps to express accurately the speed at which thoughts present themselves. Once again, I think it’s pretty clear that it comes from my own anxieties and the things I think occasionally.
…Nah, i think I’m feeling ok today.
What are you supposed to answer when somebody asks you if you´re ok and you are not? Do you answer with the truth? Like, NO,I’m actually pretty miserable right now, my life in general is leading nowhere, i feel useless in every possible imaginable aspect, i’m a failure at everything i try to do, despite my best attempts i have failed once and again to find some reason to live on and everyday i wake up wishing that something kills me and my mother and father won’t have to deal with the pain of having a son who committed suicide, everybody tells me to give up on the girl that i like because she’s got like a hundred thousand guys chasing her in a way that when she walks by you can count the queue that forms behind her and that she’s on the queue for another guy, Nobody will have a deep conversation with me because they immediately find that i’m so depressing it’s easier to talk to another douche who doesn’t care about anything and talks only about going out to a fucking night club and getting drunk and fucking a poor girl who only likes douches(because that’s the only possible logical explanation as to why douches get laid). No, I’m not feeling particularly upbeat right now because everybody expects me to do stuff and I just want to sit here writing but I[m not that good at it and it’ll probably take me nowhere in life and then everyone will be disappointed and I will act like I don’t mind that much but i will because secretly all i want is the approval of others and to be accepted as i am and i know that’s what everybody wants and usually when you hear someone say that they just want to be accepted as they are you just think that guy’s a loser and no one should care about what other people think. No, I’m actually feeling a little bit under the weather because I don’t know if i should be THIS depressed every fucking day and I’m beginning to think that there is something physically wrong with me because I hate everything and I probably shouldn’t. But yeah, I’m ok.
I think all this depression is due to lack of eating. I mean, it´s totally weird because i used to be able to just put on my headphones and put a catchy, upbeat song and everything would just go away. For three minutes at least. Quite frequently it feels like I’m drowning and music can only save you so far. I get by, you know, talking with my friends and smoking. Writing helps too. I’ve pretty much decided to blame my moodiness and general boredom and depression on my lack of regular feeding habits.
Because frankly, what else is there? Sure, there’s the constant reject that i subject myself to time after fucking time. I mean, I know i’m not particularly good looking, or particularly smart. My only talent is writing, but i think i do it quite well. It’s sometimes hard to get someone to read what you write, and so the only asset that I think I have is lost in translation. Nevertheless, i am constantly rejected, which makes a dent in everybody’s self-esteem, whether you like it or not. I can’t possibly blame everything on rejection, so I’m forced to blame something else.
My friends are constantly in a bunch of relationships they can choose to either continue or interrupt, and sometimes I dream of having that choice. I mean, i’m normally quite a nice guy. I make good jokes and i’m very easily to talk to, except for the fact that i’m very shy when it comes to people I don’t know. It’s selfish, I know, to think that a girl would ignore the exterior and the general shyness and find something in me she can fall in love about. It’ll probably never happen, but i am happy the way I am, and I really don’t think I would be happy any other way.
Whining, as wimpy as it is, helps me get by. I think there’s been like half a dozen times this week when I’ve been desperately close to fucking suicide, but then I write. Writing helps.
It’s hard not to wonder if people in ancient times had strong depression attacks. I mean, you look at the list of writers who committed suicide and it’s really no wonder. I don’t mean to say that I fit in with Ernest Hemingway, but i like to consider myself a writer. Nevetheless if everyone in the world felt this lonely all of the time, the suicide rates would go through the roof. People would be dropping dead left and right, jumping off buildings, standing in front of trains, shooting themselves in the head, etc. So i think it’s really alright that not everybody is this lonely.
So you know, shit happens. The ways you deal with the shit defines your everyday attitude towards the world, or rather, your attitude when you’re alone. When you’re with people, if you’re like me, you’ll just put on a motherfucking imaginary mask and glow in the dark.