i've been putting off blogging because i don't want to scare anybody, but here goes! hooray!
i think that i am just waiting to die.*
i've been doing a fantastic job of remembering to take both my pills every single day. katie and i worked out a new system - she rings a bell when she gets home, and i drool. there are still a few bugs to work out. but seriously, i've been doing well with that!
my car has over 55,555 miles on it now. this is only important because i've discovered a system of measurement with which i am comfortable. january 1st is silly, but the 5s lining up like impractical fenceposts is something i can accept as a significant marker. i remember when my car hit 54,000. i can remember exactly where i've been in the past 1,555 miles, and i feel alright about it. i love to drive by car, and at 60,000 i want my life to be different somehow. (by the way, when it happened i was 1 mile outside of searcy on 67 coming home from the starbucks in conway, arkansas. brooklynne had just bought a french press for her boyfriend. katie and i had bought christmas mugs. beth had been studying. the music was passably loud. it was dark and a tuesday. on a scale from 1-10, i was a 4. with regards to the miles, i was a strong 9.)
joseph conrad attempted suicide when he was twenty. he failed at dying, continuing on to write one of the most significant books i have ever read. he must have been truly dissatisfied with life, but look at what he became and maybe what i could become. i guess i do have hope, but that in no way voids my waiting to die.
today i got out a pen and was about to write something down in a steno pad i found around the apartment. i was interrupted when i looked at the first blank page of the pad. the paper had deep indentations, and i could still make out what somebody had pressed so hard with a pen to write. it was a love letter. i don't know what to do with it. i'd like to dig a hole and bury it behind the apartment, but i don't have a shovel and i don't think i could dig a hole as deep as i'd like to without feeling crazy. i'd like not to have noticed it or taken the time to decipher it. i watch too many tv crime dramas. i shouldn't waste an entire pad of paper, but how can i be expected ever to write on that.
i so infrequently know what to do. for instance, right now, i don't know what to do. when i say "i'm waiting to die," i really mean that. not in the way that i'm afraid you will interpret it. i think about what life is like and how the days just exist and how i just exist. what's going to happen after i graduate from college? i'll get a job. i'll wake up, go to work, take a lunch break, go back to work, come home, spend the evening doing one thing or another, then to go sleep and wake up again. i'm alright with doing this (there isn't an alternative, and i'm genuine in saying i'd never end my life). i just want to tell somebody that this is how i really see life. this is really what i am expecting, and i'm not excited about it. how could a person be excited about this. i hope to do some great things while i'm alive, but i'm not even excited about that.
perhaps you're thinking "what about god?"
so am i. i'm working on it, guys. it's difficult. everybody already knows that it's difficult.
i'm looking into visiting with a career counselor. i'm going to apply to a variety of places in milwaukee, but i'm not sure what sort of work i want to actually end up doing. the only thing i'm demonstrably qualified to do is office work, but i think i need more human contact than that. or is human contact something that people get after work?
i visited milwaukee last weekend with owen, and i think the town is fantastic. i don't have adequate winter clothes (and, as a result, i nearly died of exposure), but i'll buy them. i can see myself there. also, there is now a possibility that josh, ellen, owen, and i could find a larger place together. i can most definitely get behind that.
also, austin and i are going to japan together in march.
i think that's everything.
* i would never ever ever do anything to hurt myself. this is not what i mean at all.
thrown together by karyn |
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i think that i am just waiting to die.*
i've been doing a fantastic job of remembering to take both my pills every single day. katie and i worked out a new system - she rings a bell when she gets home, and i drool. there are still a few bugs to work out. but seriously, i've been doing well with that!
my car has over 55,555 miles on it now. this is only important because i've discovered a system of measurement with which i am comfortable. january 1st is silly, but the 5s lining up like impractical fenceposts is something i can accept as a significant marker. i remember when my car hit 54,000. i can remember exactly where i've been in the past 1,555 miles, and i feel alright about it. i love to drive by car, and at 60,000 i want my life to be different somehow. (by the way, when it happened i was 1 mile outside of searcy on 67 coming home from the starbucks in conway, arkansas. brooklynne had just bought a french press for her boyfriend. katie and i had bought christmas mugs. beth had been studying. the music was passably loud. it was dark and a tuesday. on a scale from 1-10, i was a 4. with regards to the miles, i was a strong 9.)
joseph conrad attempted suicide when he was twenty. he failed at dying, continuing on to write one of the most significant books i have ever read. he must have been truly dissatisfied with life, but look at what he became and maybe what i could become. i guess i do have hope, but that in no way voids my waiting to die.
today i got out a pen and was about to write something down in a steno pad i found around the apartment. i was interrupted when i looked at the first blank page of the pad. the paper had deep indentations, and i could still make out what somebody had pressed so hard with a pen to write. it was a love letter. i don't know what to do with it. i'd like to dig a hole and bury it behind the apartment, but i don't have a shovel and i don't think i could dig a hole as deep as i'd like to without feeling crazy. i'd like not to have noticed it or taken the time to decipher it. i watch too many tv crime dramas. i shouldn't waste an entire pad of paper, but how can i be expected ever to write on that.
i so infrequently know what to do. for instance, right now, i don't know what to do. when i say "i'm waiting to die," i really mean that. not in the way that i'm afraid you will interpret it. i think about what life is like and how the days just exist and how i just exist. what's going to happen after i graduate from college? i'll get a job. i'll wake up, go to work, take a lunch break, go back to work, come home, spend the evening doing one thing or another, then to go sleep and wake up again. i'm alright with doing this (there isn't an alternative, and i'm genuine in saying i'd never end my life). i just want to tell somebody that this is how i really see life. this is really what i am expecting, and i'm not excited about it. how could a person be excited about this. i hope to do some great things while i'm alive, but i'm not even excited about that.
perhaps you're thinking "what about god?"
so am i. i'm working on it, guys. it's difficult. everybody already knows that it's difficult.
i'm looking into visiting with a career counselor. i'm going to apply to a variety of places in milwaukee, but i'm not sure what sort of work i want to actually end up doing. the only thing i'm demonstrably qualified to do is office work, but i think i need more human contact than that. or is human contact something that people get after work?
i visited milwaukee last weekend with owen, and i think the town is fantastic. i don't have adequate winter clothes (and, as a result, i nearly died of exposure), but i'll buy them. i can see myself there. also, there is now a possibility that josh, ellen, owen, and i could find a larger place together. i can most definitely get behind that.
also, austin and i are going to japan together in march.
i think that's everything.
* i would never ever ever do anything to hurt myself. this is not what i mean at all.