Another long break between entries. This time, I really missed writing on here and thought about giving a little update a lot, but somehow always stopped myself.
I think maybe I was trying to not intentionally write at all. Like when you fast for a period of time, or deprive yourself of orgasms for a spell to make the sensation all the better when you return.
My deprivation did result in some very visceral poetry that exploded out of me on a few occasions. But on the whole, it's bad for me to go this long without my little exercises in narcissistic solipsism that happen exclusively on here. And that's really truly because I don't have anyone else to talk to.
If I don't write it out, it all gets backed up and sits in me like stale water, like rotting flesh.
And now that I am here trying to shovel it all out, I don't really know what to say or where to start.
Of course, nothing has really happened in the last 65 days or so.
I feel lucky in a way, being able to blame everything on the pandemic. I had an appointment with a career counselor yesterday (a sure sign of my lack of confidence as a writer) and she asked, tell me what a normal day looks like for you, from the time you wake up to when you go to bed.
And I couldn't even make up anything.
I said, I wake up usually around 6:30 or so, but then it's pretty much nothing after that.
The first thing I do is reach for my computer. It's usually right by my head, as I have been listening to an audiobook of Lord of the Rings to fall asleep each night.
I watch a few segments of the late night comics and their take on the collapse of our democracy. Then I doomscroll for a bit. I subscribe to the Washington Post and The Atlantic and can easily spend a few hours reading about everything that's wrong everywhere.
I read the op-eds and think, I could be writing these. But I never do.
After that? Well, I had a job with the Census Bureau. So I would eventually be able to tear myself away so that I could anxiously knock on doors and invite strangers to tell me what race they are. But now that the job has wrapped up, it's a big blank slate.
I'll usually masturbate after reading the news. I'll do this two to three times a day. Always after reading the news. It's maybe a bit Pavlovian. Throughout the day, I'll keep re-checking the news. Sometimes I'll hit refresh a few times, just to make sure there is no new stories.
The rest of the time, I get high and watch cartoons.
I hardly ever leave my bedroom. It feels awkward and unsafe. I resent that my roommate is always out in the house, making noise, doing stuff. I resent that their dog has more access to the house than I do. But I do have access. I am not a dog. I can open my own doors and go outside whenever I want.
But I don't want. Whenever I am in the house or the greater outside world, I just want to go back into my room.
I try to read books sometimes, but I can't focus.
I try to go for walks, maybe even a nice hike (I used to do those things daily), but my body has been hurting so badly lately. And my anxiety and agoraphobia and etc. kicks in before too long anyway.
And so really, that's my whole day. In my room, in my bed.
Anything else feels frightening, seems futile.
I want to escape but to where?
I want to be different but in what way?
Hope can be a dangerous thing and I am sometimes glad to be rid of it.
But this life without it, can it even be called a life?
Nothing changes until I do something.
But the somethings I try feel too feeble.
No one is coming to save me.
I tell myself that everyday.
I must do this myself or otherwise I will stay just like this forever.
But at the same time, just like this is easy.
Today I decided to break the pattern and to write on here as the very first thing I do.
And already my body and brain are telling me to wrap this thing up so that we can back to our normal routine.
Change is hard when you have no momentum.
I feel like I am at the bottom of a very steep hill.
Me and Sisyphus down here with our heavy stones.
Maybe today we will roll the stones to the top and watch them roll back down.
Maybe today we won't even try.
8:04 a.m. - 2020-10-13
Recent entries:
A little whining about the stress of the future - 2020-12-07
Pins and Needles - 2020-11-29
Step by Step (ooh, baby) (That's a New Kids on the Block reference in case you are under 40) - 2020-11-12
a book of a thousand chapters starts with a single word - 2020-11-08
Bitter - 2020-10-16
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