Sunday, October 12, 2008
Sunday, October 5, 2008
I gotta write something. I just got back from a political rally, and I'm going a mile a minute. I guess I'm under the delusion that I mean something. It'll be gone tomorrow, but it's coursing through my viens right now. It was interesting to see for me what were real people. Their lives were completely different than mine. They had purpose and identity. They were trying to support liberalism in a hotbed of conservatism. It's funny what makes the world go round. People have to go out and do something to support themselves. They have to get along with other people. They're real. I have none of those concerns. I have all these thoughts running through my head as to what needs to happen to make the world a better place. The problem is that I have no place in the world. My thoughts are completely divorced from reality. I've made a separate peace with the world, and now I have to live with it. It was interesting to listen to people that have to deal with a bunch of closet racists talking about how we need a black president. It really is hopeless. I'll come down in a little while and be able to go back to my comfortable hopelessness. This really is a bunch of gobbletygook, so much desire and so little ability. Why can't I say what I'm thinking? For one thing I'm completely disorganized. There is no one true direction I can focus on. I want to make a speech that will change the world. I'm lost in a fantasy that has surrounded me since I was a little child. It really is depressing and rather meaningless. The last thing you can call me is a person of substance. What is the one thing I would say to people if I had the chance? I would guess it would be to quit being so materialistic. That's funny coming from me. I live off of other people. It seems like everythiing about the human condition revolves around status. I want to be number one. I deserve it. I have the solutions for what ails us. It's just that no one will listen to me. I don't deserve to be listened to. In my head I live in one world. As soon as I begin writing I live in another. It's true, but not that interesting. So I'm left where I am. Why, why can't I do better? Why can't I be satisfied where I am? It seems like in this moment I ought to be able to come up with something useful, but it is not to be.
Well I haven't been here in a while, and that's probably a good thing. I have a fresh mind, and I don't even remember what I might have been writing about. I'm trying to get it to come back to me, but at the same time I'm trying to shut it out. I want this to be about the here and now. I'm not into long trains of thought. I guess that blows my chance at greatness not that there aren't an infinite number of other things holding me back. Anywho here am I all dressed up with no place to go. I've been politiking ahead of the election. I'm going to a thing this afternoon. It makes me realize what a miracle it is that this country or any other runs at all. It will soon be over, and then our expectations will start to deteriorate again. Life goes on. It is fun making comments on youtube. I used to live in the message forums on Yahoo. Those were the good old days. Now I'm lost and alone. Unfortunately loneliness seems to be good for my mental health. This is my lot in life. I always wanted to be famous. I wanted to leave the world a better place. I wanted to be remembered. Fat chance. I lay on this futon day after day wondering what is finally going to come along and make my life better. Pretty stupid, huh? I guess I am living the life I'm suppose to be. I'm being warehoused. I should be glad I'm not out on the street somewhere. Nobody gets everything they want.
Friday, September 12, 2008
I'm in heaven. I'm goin' a mile a minuste. Shall I explain why? I think not. Let it be enough that I am the way I am and go from there. Thank you for all the things that brought me to this point, but I'm here to go forward not to remember the past. Still, I'm happy as a camper. We all know how long that is going to last. What goes up must come down. Let's just speed things up. What can I do to get really down on myself? I hate me. I despise the very ground I walk on. It's kind of like Romeo and Juliet. I disown who I am. Maybe I should cut myself or scratch myself really badly. That would get me back in control. Why do I want to be in control? Why do I want to come down? Is it my insecurities again? I want to be real. I don't want to live in a fantasy land. When I'm real I drift off to fantasy. When I'm fantasizing I want to get back to being real. Now that's the cycle of life for me. I'm trapped like Sisyphus. We all probably are one way or another. So that's that. What else is new with me? What really trips my trigger? What have I been writing about these last few entries? I'm in that frame of mind where I will leave no thought unexpressed. It feels so good. I can actually get a handle on myself. This is what is going on with me. You don't know how often that is not the case. There are many times I feel like hell, and haven't gotten a clue as to why. I don't know why as to most things. I'm traveling around clueless. It's like that guy in the movie, "The Green Mile". I'm just a lost little soul who can't find his way home. It's pathetic. I wish I could write something down that would make this entry memorable. I guess that's a lost cause. I'm lost in a whirlwind.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Okay, we pretty well established last time that I can't write. So where do we go from here? I guess I just sit here and argue with myself. I can do that. Can't I? That's about all I can do, just go around in circles. It's the one thing I'm good at. I guess I'm trying to make myself look good by putting myself down. Is that my secret? Have I made a great discovery? Have I finally become the great person I always felt I was? I mean what is so different between me and everybody else? It's all just a matter of degree. Some people stand out. Some are just part of the crowd. I was born to stand out. At least I felt as though I was. I think it's called narcissism. There's also some arrogance in there. It comes from being told you are nothing as a young child. You just naturally compensate. So that's where I'm at. I'm just a common guy with a lot of deficits one of which is thinking that he's a great person. I love to complain about my childhood. I love to blame all my problems on the way I was treated. I still believe it. It just feels right. They used to tell me in therapy, "It may be your parents fault that you're screwed up, but it's your fault if you stay that way." So here I am, still screwed up. I've just drifted through life, never accumulating anything, never developing any long term relationships. I'm just a total loser. Man, does it feel good! I'm finally the person I'm suppose to be. I've always been, but at least I realize it now. I'm a loser! All I do is detract from society. I'd be better off dead. Hate me with all the force that is within you. This reminds me of the book, "The Stranger", by Albert Camus. I really didn't understand it, but it was a simple book.
So where does that leave me? Have I solved the problem? What problem? Where do I go from here? I've just been going around in circles. Shall I continue? I just need to get started. I need a jumping off point. I need something that really ticks me off, something I can sink my teeth into. I've pretty well exhausted my train of thought, haven't I? I'm at the end of the road. It's all over but the cryin'. I just don't want to quit. I want to stay here without really doing anything. It's the ultimate job. Like everything else I want it is undeliverable. It's the opposite of what's real. It's a sad state of affairs. Eventually I always find myself in this position.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Here I am again. Every entry has to start the same old way- "Lookee here! Never done this before!" It's all about getting the energy up. I have to get on a roll. It's time for the old manic episode to start. Let's see some inspiration. Maybe there is no inspiration today. Been there. Done that. Time for something new. I have to go to a new level. I have to find something I've never found before. Is this hopeless or what? Face it. I've had a good run, and now it's done. I can't keep churning out the same old thing day after day. I am a man of limited capabilities. Nothing I'm able to do is worth doing. Nothing I want to do am I able to do. It makes for a rough life. It's called having a disability. It's funny how I used to think it was an advantage. I probably will again one of these days, maybe even later this hour. Really I'm just tryin' to get down. I want to start a new cycle. The phoenix must land. The rally must end. I have to turn on myself. I have to tear myself apart. I have to destroy every part of me. Then I will be new again. Out with the old. I have to have a psychotic break. There needs to be fertilizer. It's the cycle of life.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
How do I pick a time to write? When do I know I'm ready? When should I skip a day? I have the same problem with exercise. When should I do anything? It all takes an act of will. The older I get the less I have, and the less I need. I'm just playin' out the string. It's all over but the cryin'. What am I doin' here then? Why even try? I still have something left. Maybe my best years are still ahead of me. I've been building up to this all my life. As always I'm just trying to strip down to the bare essentials. I need to be focused on just one thing. I guess I've always been kidding myself. I've always told myself that I would be able to accomplish great things when the heat was on. Really I couldn't accomplish anything, and I blamed it on external events. I've been a failure in life, and I'm just coming around now to admit it. I've always been crazy. I haven't accomplished a single thing. All I've done is take money from the government and use it to keep me and my fantasies alive. That's a little rough, but it's pretty much the truth. There have been a lot of people that have devoted their lives to research and haven't discovered a single thing. They took a shot and missed. Was just the fact they were capable of doing research an accomplishment? Sometimes it was, and sometimes it wasn't. Which was I? There are a lot of spiritual people that spent their lives in prayer or meditation. Were their lives a waste? Then you have the disabled. Just the fact that they are able to get through life is viewed as an accomplishment. Maybe I don't understand the disabled as good as I should. Maybe I don't see myself as clear as I should. The plainest thing about me seems to be my need for approval. Whenever somethng interesting comes along I immediately go into an imaginary conversation with whoever I think it would mean the most to. I don't trust myself. I don't think I'm worhty. It doesn't seem to be something I can convince myself to be otherwise. It seems to be hardwired into me. I can't seem to think any other way. I've fought it all my adult life it seems. I remember running away from home when I was seventeen. All the time in my head I was telling my family what it was like. I knew I had a problem then. I've never been able to change. I've studied Dialectic Behavior Therapy. The key to it is mindfulness. These imaginary conversations are an example of me not being mindful. As a baby a person must individuate. I never did. I can only see myself in terms of others. I could play shoulda woulda coulda. I should have focused on it more. I should have done this or done that. What should I do now? Should I just try to learn to live with it the best I can? Give me a day to think about it.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Once again I find myself on the group W bench. It seems like I have more ideas than I can shake a stick at. However, when it comes to selecting just one I become incapable of making a decision. Let's just list a few then:
Why are my thoughts alwasys in the form of imaginary conversations?
Do I have to put each item in the form of a question?
It's Sunday morning so my mind has obviously been on politics. For me politics is like the weather. I think about it constantly. I just never do anything about it. I guess that goes for my life in general. Nothing I do has any effect on the world. It's all just inside my head. It's a risk free existence. Is this the most rational course of action? It doesn't seem like it would be. If I could do anything I want would this be it? It seems like just the opposite of what I should be doing. People want to survive. For that they seek security. I have as much security as I'm going to get. I can only go down from here. I heard about a story once about a person who was too afraid to come out of a coma. I can identify with that person. I wonder if he had people around him coming in every day congradulating him on what a good job he was doing taking care of himself? Is it that I have no honor? If I had any honor I would be out there trying to take care of myself instead of letting other people do it for me. Rich people let other people take care of them. They just spend more money doing it. I'm trapped in the land of excuses. I keep trying to convince myself that this is the best possibe outcome for the situation I have found myself in. I'm free to do anything I want which turns out to be nothing. What's wrong with this picture? I want to do something just not anything within my capabilities. When I was young I wanted to stop the war between the rich and poor. That's why I went into robotics. There only needs to be one more invention if it is the right one. Robots for Research! I gradually ran out of steam which is where I am at right now, so I'll return later.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Well, what the hell am I doing here? I'm revved up and ready to go. I have barely gotten out of bed the past week, so I'm well rested. I need to burn off some energy. I guess all my sentences are going to start with "I". Who am I talking to in my head? Who's approval do I need? Why am I like that? What does it matter? I think I may be having a problem focusing. I have no purpose other than keeping myself busy. Let's see how negative I can get about myself. That's what it always comes back to. Isn't it? When in doubt turn on myself. What makes me that way, and what do I do about it? These are probably the same questions I had my first time in therapy. I've come a long way. Haven't I? I can feel it turning. I'm getting control of myself by getting down on myself. Now I'm running out of gas. The thrill is going. I should end here. The rest will get worse and worse. I was inspired. Now I am just bored. Writing is theraputic. I don't want to quit. I want to write something that will justify my existence. I want to be worth something. Can I get that by writing? I could if I wrote something successful, something other people would want to read. It's too bad. I'm just me.