it's hard for me to list all the reasons why being hungover on apathy in the most politically significant time i have since lived through is a bad thing. i would like to go on and on about how everything is changing and i oughta do something about it, how it's paramount that i stick by my line in the sand and believe in it indefatigably and shit, because this is about my life, too. but writing that feels forced, like i don't really mean it. perhaps i just talk too much even for me, or my hovering apathy has started wearing out my will to sort out my thoughts. at least i've still managed to write though. it's not too late yet.
in an earlier draft (which at this point while probably remain unpublished), called Oblivion-Seeking in a World Seeking Oblivion, i wrote about how contemporary living is fucking nauseating given all the noise. i didn't know how to keep going on that because that really feels like all i need to say. to explain the 'noise' might just be adding to it. you already get what i mean by the word alone, i think. everyone hears it at the same time. this is a society of drug-dependents and the drugs are in everything: the internet is everywhere, media is everywhere, ideology is everywhere, information technology is everywhere, the control machines are everywhere, and their infrastructures are everything. they're on all the time past the point where you could remember when they were off last, or if they could ever be turned off at all.
the genius of the 'noise' is that it's not simply a depressant: it doesn't just make you numb. it splits your thinking every which way, keeping you alert by contradiction ad nauseam until you're split so often it no longer means anything to be split. its genius is that it pacifies your ability to act by getting you to act on it in the first place, which is futile in the face of its reverberating powers. we're trapped in a House of Mirrors.
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i am going to apply for a BEd today, i'm also gonna seriously start looking for jobs, which has gotten me thinking about my future. i want to not feel numb about death, but somehow walking right into that numbess by going with things on a whim is beginning to make it undo itself. maybe that means i'm confronting it. anyway, i have thought a lot about the direction i'm looking into going in, being which the one where i do a year or two of college (if i don't end up hating a BEd), do another two or three years of university, get a teaching job, maybe do another two years for a Master's, see how that all goes, maybe get a little experimental with it, do projects on the side, see places, see people, start a family, raise kids right, get them to where they need to be on top of all my other responsibilities, see them through, retire, give'r what i got left then check out. that sounds like a pretty good and solid life, but in giving my life finitude in what can be done within it, it has reminded me that i will die one day. everyone will, no shit. but there is a difference between knowing that and feeling it. now i kind of feel it. if i'm to do any of this, i ought to feel like i'm doing it for real, because this is all real. it's all painfully real.
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if the conspiracists' prophecizing is foiled and i make it another winter, and maybe - just maybe - things go back to 'normal' (if that was ever something to desire in the first place), i can see everything moving tantalizingly fast. those who can will rush to the stores, the parties, the shows, each other's houses, in a binge. the music will have never seemed better than it will be then and so will the parks and people, television, and every other colour. we'll hug and dance. it'll be the end of the prohibition of kissing strangers, maybe then sex and drugs will seem new again. we'll have Christmas again. the economy will get better again, maybe even boom. regardless, it'll be hyped up as a neo-Roaring Twenties for a bit. everything will seem as good as it ever was, especially in the cities. some of us will talk about how hard it is to imagine that there was ever a crisis even with the masks never going away. for some of us, it'll all seem like a bad dream. but the whole truth is is that we'll still be in it, and it will only get worse, and we'll never wake up.
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for someone with an obscenely comfy childhood, i sure am dreadfully pessi-fucking-mistic. 'oh we're trapped in a bad dream we'll never wake up from', dude, aren't your parents still together? don't they both still make you breakfast every morning? relax, this is needless.
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the thought of dating and having sex to me right now is kind of weird for me. i now get when you used to say you couldn't imagine having sex now. i'm definitely not asexual, and i'm probably not aromantic, i probably just have too negative of a self-image. that's what this comes down to. it just seems weird that anyone would want to do anything with me. a part of me tells myself i'm okay with that, but a lot of me isn't and is very vocal about that. but i'm not as bad as i think i can be, right? right?
on a similar note, some times i wonder why i have never fallen in love before. i don't expect myself to have, i think it probably doesn't happen for most people at all. it's not even like it's even one of my top interests right now, i think i got plenty of more pressing shit to dwell on. it just sometimes feels weird that i've never really even sustained hard crushes for longer than a few months. the last one i had was for around a month in 2019, the one before that was in 2017, which only lasted a few weeks because it was someone over the internet. the one before that one was in middle school, which lasted off and on for maybe the core months of the winter. the one before that, possibly my first ever, lasted a full year, from grade 6 to 7. i've had minor crushes on pretty much anyone in between all that, but nothing major. sometimes it's nothing obvious, either. it feels like sometimes i can't tell when being platonic ends and where affection beyond that begins. sometimes i wonder if i'm on the aromantic spectrum, but the thought of that gives me no comfort, so i can definitely rule it out. it's not like i dont like the idea of falling in love, it's also not like i'm not still a child. i guess having lovesick friends all my life got to my head, being the one with the least experience out of all of them (i've never even had my first kiss yet). it's not like a lot of this wasn't my choice ('the boys won't just come knocking at your door, D----l!') i'm thinking into this way too much.
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i was gonna dedicate a post to rambling about my obsession with thinking about beating up bad people, but that's way too revealing of me to put on the internet. so to avoid getting totally naked but still get to the point of doing so, i'll just say that i don't like myself for a lot of reasons, some of which are probably dumb and dumb in more ways than one. or, i hope they're dumb, at least. maybe i really am just a disgusting coward who will let other people get hurt.
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i appreciate whenever you say you wish i felt better and that you want to help me if you could and all that. i really do. that in itself makes me feel better. but i hope you know that feeling is mutual. you can get just as emo as i get in these, and i feel the same way you feel whenever you read me self-loathing. you're writing about that i would feel better if you were here. i think that goes for both of us.
