Justin the Mighty :: Wordy

I really don’t have a clue how to start this, so I suppose it’s best to simply admit that. As far as blogs go, I suck. I’m pretty much the worst blogger in existence, if for no other reason than that my entries are ages apart. One would say that’s a sign of laziness, but it actually has more to do with me wanting to keep the entries funny and upbeat. And while my blog entries would probably have you believe I’m super happy and well-adjusted, I’m really not. Frankly, I’m a disaster on nearly every level. Emotionally, I’m completely batshit. Physically, I’m lost. The harder I try to attain the slightest semblance of something awesome, the more I fail. It could be said that, if I’m a master of anything, I’m a master of failing emphatically. Were this blog entry a documentary, we’d probably be reaching the point where the editor slips in some footage of a Cesna plowing into a mountainside. (Hang in there. There’s still time.)

In truth, I’ve forgotten the exact reason for picking this entry as my “return” to blogging. I guess I just have a lot of thoughts floating around in my head and I need a place to vent. Traditionally, I would turn to my friends. But in some cases, my friends are the problem. (That’s not entirely how it was supposed to sound. And it isn’t entirely the case here.) It’s not so much that they’re the problem, so much as the absence of them is an ongoing problem. When normal people are feeling like everything in life is a diarrhea waterfall, they have their closest friends to turn to. My closest friend is in fucking Australia (and he’s been out of touch for two weeks, which isn’t normal in and of itself). There’s not really a particular person I can turn to when I just need someone to listen or simply need some advice. There’s Daniel, but he is also part of the problem, so talking to him about it would simply result in both of us feeling like shit. Along these lines, I actually had a chat yesterday with a friend of mine via Yahoo. He told me that I should consider a change of scenery. (He actually suggested Thailand or China, which seemed rather funny at the time. I guess he figures I like Asian men enough to surround myself with them for the rest of my life. He’s probably slightly right.) He said I should just leave my life as I know it and just start all over somewhere else. That’s a rather acceptable option on its face, but a lot of my current depression stems from a change of scenery. Lots of bits chipped off from the block around that time. *shrugs*

I’ve been feeling this way for quite some time. Lots of big things and little things are at fault. It’s hard to really go through and pick them all. Doing so just seems like I’m giving too much attention to one little thing. I don’t like looking at the shitty little pixels; I tend to look at the shitty picture as a whole. Makes it easier to swallow. I keep losing my sanity and my friends (in equal bits, I suppose). More to distance than anything else. They’re around, but they’re… somewhere. I hope that makes sense. I try to replace them with “stuff” and “things” and, in some cases, creatures. But stuff gets ruined. Creatures die. Everything turns to dust. Etc, etc, etc. I’m very much in love with someone who is amazing and caring and delightfully neurotic, but who (unknowingly) makes me feel like I’m eating myself from the inside out. Being with him makes me someone other than who I am, which is probably an improvement, but certainly not healthy for my inner self. (That sounds like hippie bullshit. Not that I have anything against hippies.) But yeah… I can’t tell him that. Hopefully, he’ll read this and my moods will make more sense to him. (No clue how that’ll work out.) He’s not doing anything, per se. He just… I don’t know. That’s too hard to explain, so I’ll bench that for now. A close friend’s newfound happiness was just sort of the final… what’s the phrase… nail in the coffin? No… um… straw on the camel? Something like that. In any case, that was the final piece of the world’s worst puzzle. (In case you’re reading this, and you know who you are, I hope you realize that I was already fucked up inside before all this. Your news wasn’t the sole cause of my recent internal ka-boom, and I’m sorry if it came across that way. It’s just that it didn’t help matters and it just made me dump all over you like my entire life is your fault. It’s not. We both know that. I love you and I’m sorry I’m routinely such an asshole. Thanks for sticking around, one way or another.) So… yeah… things have been brewing. I had this sort of zombie day at work yesterday. I don’t fully know if I really did what I was supposed to. I was just too focused on trying not to focus. That can really fuck a guy up. I nearly severed a digit with a razor blade. I wouldn’t be able to give “The Finger” or the peace sign anymore. (Not that I necessarily do either all that frequently, but it’s nice to have the option.) Maybe I’ll lose a nipple today. Stranger things have happened, right?

Hmm… I think I can stop writing here. (tl;dr, right?) I wanted to vent a few things out there and this seemed to have worked for the moment. I have the shower running and it’s time to go to work, so I’ll head out. Thanks for reading, whether you’re on the “We love you” side or the “You’re a fucktard” side.

Mind the gap.

Keep calm and carry on.

-Justin