It’s four in the morning. I tried to fall asleep earlier, but I just ended up coming downstairs to lie down on the couch. I thought I got better and now I’ll remember not to trust my judgment when it comes to deciding whether I feel okay or not. My nose has been annoying because I keep reaching for the tissue box every five seconds. Yesterday definitely wasn’t a good day. I won’t talk about it. I don’t even know why I bothered mentioning it. You see, when I have a problem and it presents itself, I’ll get a little frustrated if it’s causing me pain. After that, I go numb. I don’t think about it. I put it so far out of my mind that even when I do think about it, I don’t feel anything. I’m stuck feeling indifferent for a while, the emotions creep up on me, and then I get this sinking feeling like my whole world sucks. Right now, I don’t know how I feel. That’s how general I’m going to be before I touch noses with this subject. It won’t be today, it won’t be tomorrow but someday.
I’m tired. I’ve been getting enormous amounts of sleep that my body isn’t used to, but I fear it needed it as all people who are ill think they need rest. Resting helps and keeping a good attitude about it works enchantingly well. I’ll resume my nocturnal-insomniac state and just do what I always do with the cold pain after I’m better. I don’t think it’ll involve a doctor visit, but lying around the house and reading the things I enjoy will take my mind off the depressing things. I hope they will, anyway.
Sometimes I feel stuck. It’s like I’m in an immobile state, painted as something still and unable to change. It’s probably the monotony of life getting to me as it always does during these blistering summers, but I have reason to suspect that maybe it’s not what I originally thought. Where are my wings? They say people aren’t born heroes, they’re made. I guess I could make some wings and jump off the roof of the house. Any person with any sense would tell you that you’d break a bone. I’d probably be dumb enough to believe that dreams, or in this case, flight is achieved through a few trying ideas. Will I ever do anything great for humanity? Chances are: probably not. I don’t expect fame or recognition for any work I might do in the future. I only expect to derive gratification of having done it for the fun of it. If my “fun” leads me to anything interesting, maybe I’ll have my plate dinner and an expensive brand of wine in hand. I don’t think there’s any sense to being heralded as one of the greatest beings ever on the planet. I mean, why form an ass kissing committee to commemorate your efforts when you’ll have all these besmirching, envious fuckers for the rest of your life sending you envelopes after having studied your genealogy extensively to indeed confirm they are your long lost cousin? Just get on with your life people. Opportunity only comes so often and I suggest that if you had ever wanted to do anything with your life, you might as well take the risk and think about the consequences later when it comes to something grandiose.
My dad's alarm begins at 4:30 AM. I just felt a fucking spider run across my leg, but I won't freak out about that. I really don't care right now. Anyway, it's been three times. In about three minutes, it'll ring again. I wouldn't want to wake up in a gradual process. I'd get so mad that I'd be up by the second time. Somehow he doesn't mind and I haven't seen a light turn on yet when I look at the bottom of my bedroom door. I think this continues to 5:00 AM. Maybe this way he's not as grouchy, but then again, we don't normally see him in the mornings because the rest of the family is either A) fast asleep or B)I'm awake and I don't come out of my room. My dad's in a happier position right now with his job, but I feel regret somewhat in our coming here. I wanted to finish high school at my old city. I was already a three year veteran. No need to spend a year afar just to complete high school. I had the same damn reputation as I had when I was at the old one. Basically, I'm one of those quiet guys who really don't give a shit what other people think, do, or say unless I'm interested. Is it right to say "outcast" can be applied here, or no? I really don't know about labeling or conformism to the shitty high school subculture. I wasn't a nerd, that's for sure. I didn't spend my days digging up old relics of code and creating my own program beauties, I didn't join the math club or any tawdry competition group for academia. I didn't wear black and tell my bitch lover in a turtle neck poetry that made no sense on open-mic night. I didn't bang my head to Marylin Manson and get a tattoo of the pentagram since I was so hardcore like that. The only "geeky" behavior I engaged in was video gaming, but I think that's far from "geeky" now since a relatively large amount of males participate in this integral function of our everyday lives now it seems. I don't know what I was. Can I live with that? Yeah, I think I could. It's better to not know what you were than think you belonged to a certain sect. Separation is all part of the social high school agenda. Leave out guys like me, keep everybody in a group so everybody knows their place. It's retarded.
Since when did internet quizzes or tests validate your personality or intelligence type? I think it's all rather ridiculous. I mean, all you have to do is register a certain answer or number of answers to have a specific variant. You could've been -1 or +1 from having another personality type or a bump/dump of plus or minus 10-30 IQ points. Why even bother with such unreliable data? What kind of determinism is that? Brainwashing technique is my guess. Just like those horoscopes that send me on a laugh-riot when people actually believe in them. Are you serious? They're generalized as much as possible to include you into this sense of awe that you should feel in such a particular way!
That's all I care to relate right now.
I gotta keep the male readers on a leash. Explains the photographs.
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