Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Gutter of a Rut.

I just heard at least 2 of my computers restart from where I am at here in the back of the apartment which means spy cams are down, but right now I am hiding too well to come out to see about them.

I am sitting and typing on my tiny netbook in the dark of my bedroom. I feel so “fifteen”.

I can’t seem to fall asleep without being piss drunk and so I am just waiting for the 4 melatonin pills I just took to slip into effect.

I can’t wait.

I’ve been a little productive so far this week which was a major change in my recent behavior so I guess I can be proud of that. But I still never seem to be caught up.

There is always more that needs to be done. And if I got the most important tasks done on my to do list they would just generate more “to do’s” in the long run. So maybe just doing the bare minimum is more genius then I originally imagined.

Sometimes (what am I talking about? ALL THE TIME…) I miss being the irresponsible drunk drug addict that I was during the time period of my nervous breakdown. I never had any money or anything to show for myself except that I could always find the drugs and free alcohol in the lamest of places. Places you would think church ladies frequent. Yeah I was good at sniffing out the goods, literally.

But now the “party life” is no longer my inspiration to rise and fall with the days and nights. Instead I challenge myself in business ventures and with interior design ideas. Have I grownup or just healed? And what good is being whole if your are still always feeling half empty? Like there is something else I wish I were doing… As if I wish I weren’t “feeling” and instead I were laughing and smiling coldly with a drink in my hand and a straw up my nose like good old Laura Palmer.

I romanticized my sickness…my addiction. Now even if I partake of the evils I have grown to avoid for so long I never get as high or drunk as I once could. I am not in that sick sad daze that I was living in back then. Now I scold myself for doing these things and wasting time and money instead of doing my “real work” like I should be doing. I have become a bore.

A non-resting but always sleeping echo of the maniac I used to be. Has my medication made me this way or was it a conscious change that I chose to make?

I try to remind myself I can’t live life like I’m not afraid of dying because before too long I will actually expire… But what good was I anyhow? What did I bring? What was my passion? What reason would anyone remember my name?

I’m feeling a bit stuck in a rut and not even in a bad one as you can see or hear I am doing quite well. I have challenged myself into attaining success! What is there to earn now? More? I’m not really that type of person. I have everything I want and need and I don’t really want more than that… So doing the bare minimum at this point is technically enough. Though it could all be gone with a whistle and shimmy, and I try to remember that at all times.

So what’s next? There should always be a next. There is a “next” on my to do list, sure… But there is no next in my life goals. Not really anyways. I need to get back to the core of things. The positive gold in life that used to get me going. I just feel like after getting through all that hell, I forgot what it is I was trying to get at in the first place.