And the Song They Play is That Guy With the Messed up Face
Sometimes I wonder if this journal is detrimental to my search for selflessness.
I assume that my daily actions and feeling are worth note.
Then again, perhaps being upset that I can't attain selflessness will always keep me from selflessness.
I've gone from depressed that I have no friends to being depressed because I don't think my friends like me.
I am petty. Oh, well. No worries, it'll pass in a bit. Perhaps that junk food on Friday was a bad idea. I'm starting to think that maybe macrobiotics and Carmen have a point, and our food has a profound affect on us. That's a dangerous line of thought, though. It could lead to my Body being a temple. And my body is no fucking temple to any celestially absent father figure. My body is here to move me around, pick stuff up, and generally make me feel good.
Day to day life seems so utterly pointless. I'm not sure if the days a re too long, or too short. I feel like I've already outlived my utility as a conversationalist here. But I'm not yet emotionally relevant to anyone.
I have a new messenger bag. It's nice. I've spent more time with other people than i usually do lately. One of them accidentally significantly increased the number of books I need to read, damn her! Maybe I can still pull this social life deal together.
I really miss you guys, especially riding in the car with Megh and Phil, Jaimie's house, Chris's house, Kensington in general for some reason I can't fathom, and HoG.
Was there an apartment over HoG? I should like to live there.
I should sell Mario DDR, and buy some other game. That was an unwise purchase.
I want... my own life.
I assume that my daily actions and feeling are worth note.
Then again, perhaps being upset that I can't attain selflessness will always keep me from selflessness.
I've gone from depressed that I have no friends to being depressed because I don't think my friends like me.
I am petty. Oh, well. No worries, it'll pass in a bit. Perhaps that junk food on Friday was a bad idea. I'm starting to think that maybe macrobiotics and Carmen have a point, and our food has a profound affect on us. That's a dangerous line of thought, though. It could lead to my Body being a temple. And my body is no fucking temple to any celestially absent father figure. My body is here to move me around, pick stuff up, and generally make me feel good.
Day to day life seems so utterly pointless. I'm not sure if the days a re too long, or too short. I feel like I've already outlived my utility as a conversationalist here. But I'm not yet emotionally relevant to anyone.
I have a new messenger bag. It's nice. I've spent more time with other people than i usually do lately. One of them accidentally significantly increased the number of books I need to read, damn her! Maybe I can still pull this social life deal together.
I really miss you guys, especially riding in the car with Megh and Phil, Jaimie's house, Chris's house, Kensington in general for some reason I can't fathom, and HoG.
Was there an apartment over HoG? I should like to live there.
I should sell Mario DDR, and buy some other game. That was an unwise purchase.
I want... my own life.