Well… shit.

I haven’t posted for a long time, and it probably has to do with the way I’ve been feeling recently. You see, there’s this girl, and she’s amazingly awesome, but she isn’t interested. It bothers me immensely because, usually, I get the message and move on, but I’m struggling to do so, and it’s driving me insane, worse, it’s making me ambivalent towards most other things. I haven’t been this obsessed with someone, since, well, I don’t think ever. It’s frightening and aggravating. I’m 33 for the love of fuck, and I can’t move on. I’ve got a lot of anger building up inside of me, and it isn’t good. I spend my time wishing I wasn’t here, the only problem is, that I wish I wasn’t wherever I am, which is useless.

So here I sit, waiting for work to start. Here I sit with my new gaming machine, not feeling like playing anything, or just wasting the day away doing nothing but gaming. I’ve got projects to do, things that used to stimulate and excite me, that I were once so eager to do, and now they sit, gathering dust. I know that this feeling will pass, it always does. What bothers me, however, is how often I have been feeling like this. I don’t want to go to the doctor and get medication to make me happy, I see that as a failure at life. I know that it isn’t, that it could well be a chemical imbalance and that it needs be addressed, but I have simply just lost the desire to try to be better, which is, itself, bullshit.

There is so much I can do, I can go to gym, get into shape, eat right, learn something new everyday, speak to people, make new friends, explore this beautiful world that we have. Travel, investigate, write, be creative, learn more of this fascinating world and the people and creatures that inhabit it. I am creative, I write, I design, I spend time with friends thinking about this world and the world out there, beyond our borders and beyond the stars. Despite all of this, however, I lack the drive, the motivation, the ambition at this point to bother with it. All because of a girl.

The worst is that despite the knowledge that there are some three billion women out there, I don’t want anybody else. Worse, because of the way that I am, I then spend time questioning myself and asking what if someone else does come along? Will I then simply forget this person and move on? Will I find replacements and then suddenly not care whether she has a boyfriend, or what she is doing, if she is happy? If that is so, what does it say of me? Does it mean that I am simply infatuated and not obsessed? Does it mean that I lack depth of character? Does it mean that what I feel now is purely hormonal and chemical and means nothing in the greater aspect of this existence?

What is this that buries itself into my mind, seeking release? What is this that asks questions of my existence? Why do I sit at night without ambition? Have I given up? What is it about my life that I have lost which has seemingly broken me? Even writing this I find it foolhardy and annoying. I’m whining. I hate that. I’m sharing my darker thoughts. I despise that. My problems are my own and I must solve them, yet here I am pouring out my thoughts to the world and sundry, for everyone with enough time and nothing better to do to read. Why is that?

Why do I lack motivation? Why do I lack energy? Why do I no longer seem to care about waking up in the morning. Why is life becoming progressively more difficult to sustain? What can I do to change these things? Do I even want to change these things? I like where I am, but I seem not to like who I am. What to do? Where to go? What to change? So many questions and not enough effort contained within this mortal shell to bother with changes and fixing.

And it is all because of women. Not a single female. that much I know, although the current feelings of worthlessness is associated directly with a single being. But is this just a phase? Am I obsessed with that which I cannot have, is this why I feel like this? Is this why I feel like giving up, because of one person? Again, this brings questions to my mind of what it says about me. Am I truly this useless a human being that someone can inflict this kind of morose ambivalence upon me? Surely there is something more to it? If not, why am I being so foolish? Why am I allowing myself to feel like this?

I am a strong believer in the concept of the self, and that everything that has happened to us has made us who we are, and that if anything in the past had changed we would not be the person we are today, we could be similar, but ultimately, we would be different. Therefore, I am also a believer in the power of the self, and that through conscious choice and decision we can change who we are and what we are. That the world is ours to take, and that our success or failure in this world is a direct result of our efforts into this world. I am also, however, a realist, and know that the people around us can change who we are and what we become, through action or inaction. Through force or a lack of application.

Is this a catharsis? Did I need to put this to word so that I could get some of the darkness brewing in my mind out of it? Perhaps. Perhaps this is also for my own good, an opportunity to put out the thoughts rambling around my head and get a clearer picture of what they portend. Perhaps I just lack someone to speak to, to share with, and that this is the real problem. I have friends. I have many friends. But do I have close confidants? Do I have individuals to whom I can share my darkest thoughts and desires and know that they will not judge me? Am I too concerned with perception and the need to be viewed as a moral individual?

What do I want from this life that I lead? What of the future? Do I see myself remaining as I am for the remainder of my eternity? Would I be accepting of this life if it were a friends and they had come to me and asked for advice? Why is it easy for me to tell others how they should live? Give them advice on how to grow as an individual, financially, career-wise, and so forth, yet find it so utterly impossible to follow that advice myself? Obviously, something is wrong, I am out of balance, off-centre, running helter-skelter towards nothing. I have to change this.

I know what the first step of this change is, I have to speak to her, explain my feelings, explain myself, get a definitive answer from her as to why, and then address those in my past, both those to whom I have hurt and those who have hurt me, seek closure and understanding. I know the paths to take, yet I lack the motivation and energy to do them. I know that all I need to do is take that first step, and the second will be easier. Perhaps only marginally so, but it will be easier. Life will come right, if I apply myself.

I am intelligent, I am brilliant, I am creative. I know these things. I have proven these things. Yet I sit here and know, also, that it requires an effort in order for me to accomplish my dreams and my goals, my desires and my ambitions. Currently, I lack a source of energy for that effort. But I know, I truly know, that I can, and that I should. I cannot help, however, believe that I require someone to push me. To me, that is a failure in and of itself. I need to be able to stand alone, solitude should envelop me like a cape, build a cavern around me, protect me and provide me with the strength that I need to start my path alone. Perhaps this is an apt metaphor, a cavern, for from the darkness of the cavern the exit is also the brightest light.

My path is lit. I am aware of it. I just do not like the road it has carved. Because I know this journey is not an easy one, I resist. because I know that I have to accept the choices of others, even though they are not what I desire, I resist.

I must stop resisting the truth, and accept, I must open my eyes in the cavern of my consciousness, and seek the light.

Yet I resist.


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