August 04, 2003 :: 1:09 a.m.
no anal probes were committed during the making of this entry
I've had a sad lack of motivation to write here lately. It's unusual, really; usually I'm quite the chatterbox despite the fact that my life is more boring than watching paint dry. Way less colorful, too. But as of late it's just been... unappealing. I'm having a very blah time, not so much in that "my life is dull and unexciting" way as in that "I have no job, no interest in school, and no future and therefore will surely end up living in a cardboard box by the river with my imaginary cat Operding" way. It's less fun that I can accurately describe here, and I'm not normally at a loss for words when it comes to these things.
School starts up in 21 days, and I'm not looking forward to it at all. Of course, it's very possible that my mom will flake on sending back the tuition bill and I won't be able to go, so there's the silver lining. I shouldn't say that. I don't really mean it. I don't want to go back to school, but at the same time I don't want to stop going. Because that would mean I have to go out into the big, bad world and probably resort to killing people for money to keep myself off the streets. I wouldn't rule out that "mom forgetting" situation, though. My parents take no interest whatsoever in my life, let alone my education, so that scenario actually has a fighting chance.
I'm just... depressed. As always. I do try not to sound like a whining, pouting, "I'm a little black rain cloud, my life is shit and I want to die" kind of person, mostly because I find them very intensely annoying, but I can't muster the enthusiasm to cover the badness with amusing sarcasm right now. And now that I think about it, that's probably another reason that I haven't been writing as much. I don't like to come off as self-pitying and miserable, because last time I checked that wasn't a magical way to win money and friends. Really, I'm just not a happy person. This lends itself to being funny sometimes, but when you run out of the energy to mask it with wit and humor you just end up sounding like any other mopey, angst-ridden post-teen, pre-adult freak. I mean, there's a lot of stuff that I don't write about here. Things that I just don't need to share or expose. But I do remember a time when I could take a bit of solace in pouring my feeling out into this blank white box; any blank white box, for that matter. It's not so anymore, and that makes me sad. It's like I just have this one nasty clump of feelings (sad) that systematically hunts down and kills anything that isn't also sad. I'm a game of fucking Pac-Man, for christ's sake, only this time Pac-Man is the bad guy and the ghosties are the good feelings.
Wow, this has turned into a crazy roller-coaster ride of fun and glad tidings. I had intended to talk about Buddy's trip to the dog swimming pool and the kick-ass pattern for knitted arm-warmer things that I came up with tonight, but instead I got stuck in this ugly rut of talking about how much fun things aren't. His first swimming pool experience was a lot of fun, and the arm-warmers fit like... er... a glove. Pictures to come, someday.
I need Buffy therapy. Season 4, restore me. Or at least amuse me until I fall asleep.
Erg. G'night.
back & forth
Wait, there's more!
I like pina coladas - March 30, 2005
must... finish... projects... - March 22, 2005
Mr. Postman delivers the good stuff - March 18, 2005
when everything is bad - March 16, 2005
of fruits and menstruation - March 15, 2005