I insist I try to have unique entry titles.
I feel like I miss the comfort in being sad. It’s been such a long time that I’ve felt as such that I really can’t remember. So long that I enjoy it more than I used to. Maybe because I recognize it is extremely temporary. Maybe because it’s nice to feel.
I used to have so much to say, or so it felt. I used to post so much, constantly. Less a compulsion out of wanting to put new things up, more out of a need to write things down. I noticed recently that I haven’t written in my written journal in over a year. I felt extremely disturbed, to say a least. Early on, that pretty much served as THE record of my life. And if there’s nothing written, then what happened? Like that moment in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Gone. What happened? What have I done with the past year?
What am I doing, period?
Though, I suppose such uncertainty is completely logical. And inevitable in some ways. My goal for the past whatever had been to get a piece of paper. I got a two-year degree that I’ll probably never use, but I did it.
And so now where does that leave me? Is this about my lack of direction? Would make a lot of sense. Moods typically are in search of a reason, and not the other way around. It’s nice to kind of be on the outside in looking at myself, in some ways. I don’t feel trapped or imprisoned by my emotions anymore. I felt like that? Or, at least, in the sense of not being able to understand and deal with them. I’ve been remarkably emotionally quiet lately. I’ve noted consistently how my workout motivation has waned. Better lately, with a sense of reaching goals.
As far as my place in life, it could be a lot worse. From a critical judgemental point of view, I’m not doing that bad. I have a piece of paper, I have a job. I work a lot. I still find it funny that I’m a manager. I mean, when you demand to see a manager, you expectations of someone when you come out. I’ll never look at management the same way now that, well, I’m a part of it. We’re just people that make shit up as we go along to try and calm people down and send them on their way. We solve problems, but we aren’t magicians.
I just find it funny, that’s all. I don’t take myself that seriously, so the fact that anyone could consider me an “authority” makes me laugh. I’ve actually been joking with myself about a post-punk look. Those suits my grandpa wore in the 50’s look really awesome. Wouldn’t it be cool?
Nah, probably won’t happen, but it amuses me.
I do love amusing myself. I live for it.
The girl called me six times this evening trying to reach me. I forgot my cell phone at home. Whoops. Just not used to carrying the thing in my pocket. I feel bad. This is precisely the reason we got me one in the first place.
Of course, this is also the reason I never got one. I used to revel in being unreachable. Elusiveness doesn’t mean much when the only one trying to reach you is your own girlfriend. My bad.
While I was cleaning my room, I threw out a large chunk of Paige-related things. As much as I love to remember things, it simply had to be done. I can’t carry everything about the past with me. Besides, I lived through it. It’s quite imprinted in me. The details are.. just that. Perhaps I overestimate just how much the average person remembers about their life. I remember back when I was about making girl-related things all special.
Hrm.
There really is a sharp contrast between my attitude before and after her. Since Paige, I’ve taken on an attitude that I’m just trying to make connections with me. Candi and I have even talked about marriage – in that neither of us are interested in discussing it at this point. We don’t think we’re Always and Forever, but we want to be together right now. I think it’s an extremely healthy perspective. …:: smiles :: I love my girl. She’s my favorite girlfriend.
Hrm. I like saying hrm a lot when I type. Like annotating when I’m thinking. Hrm, hrm, hrm. In all the years past when I felt off, there was always a tinge of loneliness that went along with it. So right now, it’s nice knowing I’m totally getting some cuddles tomorrow. SCORE.
To quote Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, “I sleep now.” Goodbye.
i think a healthy perspective is more “we understand we might not be together forever” as opposed to “we know we won’t always be together.”
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I have definitely noticed that pattern in many people, the writing at times in your life when you are alone and lonely is voluminous and full of angst and need, then once a relationship settles in, the writing goes way way down, unless the relationship itself causes angst and there is a need to vent. I haven’t concluded yet if the non-writing while in a relationship is due to the complacency of having settled – i.e. there is nothing to complain about but also nothing to wax poetic about. I still suspect that if the relationship was the kind where you stay madly in love that there would remain a lot to write about, but when you’ve settled you’re in an emotionally relaxed mode and as you don’t want to rock the boat to get out of the relationship YET, you also avoid writing about it, to avoid facing your lackluster feelings which might stir things up and force some action that would be a return to discomfort. Often times being bored and complacent is easier and more preferable to facing lonliness and discomfort again. It takes time for the relationship balance to go from lackluster to intolerable – when the scales tip in favor of stirring it up and getting out of it.
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i’m with honeycat. i kept several hundred paper diaries from the time i was 8 years old to about 18. it’s just not something i make time for anymore.
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ryn: a lot of times i think the “chubby chaser” just doesn’t think he can do better than a fat girl. they’re usually easier to get into the sack. i think people should open their tastes and really try to find that one they can really love personality wise. because let’s face it: the trophy wife might be easy on the eyes forever more, but can you stand being in the same room as her? i neverreally pegged you as a chubby chaser. it seems to me that you just like a down-to-earth woman who’s not ridiculously high maintenance.
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