Listening: GothicRadio
Mentally Replaying: Matrix:Reloaded
I'd rather be: anywhere but here
Desiring: something... anything
Aches and Complaints: soreness

arg


just arg I could leave at that. maybe I should but I think the subscribers would feel cheated. I know I would.

I think if I had to describe how I've been feeling lately, say maybe at gun point. I'd say bored and angry with just a touch of depressed thrown in. I don't want to explain in, primarily in the hope that it either goes away or something comes up, some emotion that I can at least name and parade in some accessible way. I don't even feel angsty just ugh...

Like a blasted wasteland of hardpacked earth and sparse vegetation. This is covering what has always been me, at least in my own imagination. I wanted to believe that there is buried treasure in me, as there is in anyone and I just have to dig it out, wash it off and put it on display. But these days I just feel like no one gives a shit, including me. Everyone has treasure, big fucking deal, and digging it up is such a pointless labor. Why not just lay down on the hard earth and let the sun burn me away into nothingness?

Well that's at least a little angsty.

I really dislike my job. Very little has changed in the past few days or weeks, other than moving into the new building. Since I was hired my job description changed rather dramatically while I haven't had a heck of a lot of upward movement. I haven't really pushed for upward movement. I have zero interest in going into management and even less interest in get getting embroiled in office politics. But still somewhere in the past few weeks I have noticed a very clear trend toward adverse reactions to being at work.

A few weeks ago I was capable of doing something for work without stopping to contemplate the utter meaninglessness of my life. I have no idea what changed.

When I took this job I needed to pay bills. Part of the plan for my life necessitated a regular office job not subject to the whims of temping or the economic serfdom of retail. My third anniversary will be in October and I have yet to try anything in the direction what I want my true career to be.

And yet when I look into it, when I really consider getting back into theatre and doing something creative and artistic I can barely remember why I thought that was interesting.

I don't know what panics me more, that I might live out my days doing that which I've always feared the most - working nine to five for a corporate machine hoping to make just enough money to keep my head about water, maybe marrying someone so I don't have to worry about all the details by myself....
Or or that the thought of a darkened room with the eletricity generated by the tensity between two people sparking their audience to new heights of understanding the human condition doesn't really thrill me.

I've been gone so long I may have lost my taste.

Of course i'm only aware of the panic going on in my head. I don't actually feel afraid. Just restless. I have to make a decision. One way is a lot of work with small potential for return. The other way is to keep on in the direction that I'm going, being nothing, doing nothing interesting.

I don't really *feel* anything. It troubles me, but again there isn't any spark to spur some kind of action or desire in me. I'd be worried if I could feel worry.

It's a decision that's been around for a while, but I've been stalling it. I'm nearly out of time for stalling, I'm not sure how I know, I just do. And if the time passes and I don't make any decisive movement then it'll be settled, and likely not in a good way.

I've gotten so good at waffling in the past few years. I know what I need to do, but I have had nothing at all to push me into it, to demand it of me. I just need to remember what hope tastes like.