hildeguardog's Diaryland Diary


I wonder as I'm wandering.

I don't write very often anymore. I'm living on my own and I don't know what to do with myself. I don't see school as a segue into happiness so I shut down. I consider myself a writer but I never write. I'd like to be in my band but we never practice. I drink when I want to do something fun but I don't want that to be a permanent thing. I would like to be motivated but I don't know how to keep that ball rolling. I would like to be a smoker or a non-smoker. I put my body through hell when I smoke a pack a day for a few months then quit for a few months. Smoking every hour or two gets tedious, but so does not smoking. There's no middle ground with those things. Getting high is fun but then I get nothing done. Everyone I meet seems to think weed is the greatest thing ever discovered. I know it's not, but I don't know what is. I think I love my girlfriend but my mind wanders. I work so hard and still don't care when it all gets thrown away. I have no more train of thought. My feelings get reduced to sentences. I try to string them together into rhymes or poems and end up sounding like some asshole I don't want to sound like. I would like clarity of thought but coke and beer only last for so long. And I don't want to consider myself with a suffix of -head. Addictions make me uneasy. Loss of control makes me uneasy. That's why I get nauseous when I see movies where one person dominates another person. Like Antichrist. It was entertaining I guess but it reminded me of that quote by Dostoevsky, the one where he said that only humans are capable of cruelty. Or something like that. Maybe I should throw in the towel, have a kid, and work on his future. Maybe that's what my parents did. I know I'm capable of so much but I don't know how to realize it. Or let it manifest. Maybe that's because there are so many things I don't want my capabilities to be used for. Or maybe it's because the idea of having a boss is nauseating. I don't get too frustrated by the cheap politics of self-proclaimed twenty-something year old intellectuals. I still think they're misguided and biased, but now I think I may be, too. I go to my speech class for two reasons: my speech teacher is loud and says whatever he thinks. I appreciate that in people. Reason number two involves two girls that I think are way too cute and smart for community college. They're friends, hence not citing them as individual reasons. Also, they represent what I don't have the will-power to do: meet new people. I'm pretty sure they both have boyfriends, and I have a girlfriend, so why am I restricting myself? Do I censor myself when I feel below somebody? I'm twenty two years old now... it's time for me to get past that. Even though I was when I was younger. I never used to have a problem doing whatever I wanted in spite of my parents or my girlfriends or whomever. "What are you doing with your life?" is what Juan asks on a regular basis, even though he's usually joking around. But it always makes me wonder.

12:24 a.m. - Tuesday, Mar. 23, 2010


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