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| Okay, after failed attempts at resuscitating the xanga, I'm moving. I know my blogger says its about being grown up, but that's a lie. It's about the slim potential of making money by having ads running at the bottom of my blog. The likelihood that I'll actually earn anything is very marginal but hey...I've got nothing to lose. Anyway, if you'd like to get in on that goodness go here: http://livinginspiteofmyfears.blogspot.com/
I'm really going to try and write everyday though I may not always have anything interesting to say.
Goodbye xanga. You were a trip. I'll drop in and say hello. | | |
| Reading old blogs makes me long for older days. College was more fun than I gave it credit for. The real world is boring and super fucking hard. Ah, well.
I'm considering trying to blog more consistently. I think it'll help to write everyday. It's truly therapeutic and there's nothing like being able to go back and read a record of your life. It's amazing how quickly and fully we change as we age. I thought I'd always be the same person, but I'm sort of a faded version of my old self. I suppose vibrancy can fade with youth, but really, should we let it?
I've got a headache due to copious amounts of alcohol shared with Rachel, here on a rare break from her big city life. It was so good to just sit and talk to someone different. Being married does have its downside. Also enjoyed some good sushi at Kobe by Rivertown and saw Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince...waste of money and time. Is it illegal to lust after Daniel Radcliffe though?
Anyway, that's all from me. I will try and be back tomorrow. Working on a new drawing, so hopefully, something comes out of art. | | |
| I just have to wonder, is there something that exudes "expendable" about me. In my honest opinion, conceited as it may sound, I truly believe that I have the qualities of an honest, compassionate, caring and reliable friend. Yet, try as I might to carve myself into the the top tier of the totem pole with those I know, I remain on the fringes. It's just like I'm a this timelessly unforgettable forgettable piece of flotsam. I don't understand it. I try not to let it bother me. My feelings are just as hurtable as as anyone else's, but I try to forget because without the forgetting I would be even lonelier than I feel.
Again, I have to wonder, am I a bad person? Do I come off as untrustworthy? Is it my apparent nonchalance that makes me susceptible to such treatment? Do I need to be clingy and incessantly grasp for your attention to be considered worthy of your time and affection? Apparently, I do. But fuck you, fuck your horse that you rode in on, because I will drink gutter water before I stoop to that. I want you all to know, and I want to make it very clear, that I will not grovel, I will not prostrate myself before you and I will not abase myself to feel wanted. I will take the hurt and pain of rejection before I do that.
Sometimes I wonder if I need to cut the dead weight. I ask myself, is caring for these people who cannot give me the common courtesy of giving a shit about me too much of a burden? Then I realize the that the misery, shame and anxiety that I would feel by trying to be that person is far too much for me to bear. I swallow my pride and anguish and I move on and deep in the recesses of my crumbling heart, I know that that's the only way I can live.
The fact is that I will remain one of the downtrodden for the rest of my existence. But I also know that I cannot live without some modicum of human interaction. Whether I be the sacrifice of that facade or I be the idol upon the altar, I will always need it and I will always crave that affection and attention.
Let it be said that I hate all of you, with a rancid passion I curse the pain to the depths of hell. But it will also be said that I love all of you with a capacity that you cannot fathom.. You will never know nor care about the depths to which I hold you dearly in my heart, but it will always be there and I hope that one day I will not be the one you cast aside.
It's a faint, waning hope but it is a hope that I cling to. For without hope, we are nothing but ashes and dust.
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| Across the cold winter landscape they marched with unyielding horrors before them.
A song was stifled in parched throat,
The pain blinding in his blindness.
They were doing the will of god - Corannos declared it so.
With treacherous vile he turned away, spitting and hissing his discontent.
bleh...I'll come back to it.
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| Everyday I tell myself I'm going to hate you less than I did yesterday. Everyday and I wake up and choke on the intensity of that hatred. It's in my heart. It will fester till I die. I suppose all that's left is to reconcile myself to the hate and let it wash over me like too sour milk. It will never pass. I will always ache...that dull steady ache in my chest.
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