10/4/05

The little voice in the back of my mind nags at me constantly.  There are better ways to spend your days than wasting away, waiting for something to happen.  She tells me to try harder.  She tells me I’ve grown complacent and lazy.  She chastises me because I haven’t been able to type one fucking word of this without using the backspace key.  I know I’m right.  But I don’t care.

I don’t like to do work, and something tells me I should have been an artist.  I probably made the wrong choice, between musician and chemist.  And now it’s too late.  But when it comes to music, it’s always too late.  It was too late before I started.

I saw myself in another life today.  I saw myself walking, wearing designer jeans and sneakers.  Joyfully empty-headed and too happy for my own good.  Is there a me somewhere who’s not consumed with disgust and annoyance?  Is there a me somewhere who’s that ignorant?  Who didn’t have the overwhelming realization that all of this is meaningless unless you give it meaning? 

Vapidity is not a specialty of mine, I confess.  I do not think such a person could exist.