Aimless
iām writing sitting on a toilet because life is weird. under my feet are a pile of dirty clothes I will pretend are clean when i need them for work. iām halfway through a documentary on minimalism that Iām watching in the bathroom. halfway committing (maybe only a quarter) to the concept.
ecofeminism is enticing but Iām afraid iāll have to give up meat. so i think Iāll avoid the topic to feel better.
but maybe i wonāt. maybe iāll woman up and dive in. i know myself. I wonāt change dramatically, but maybe Iāll make a dent. Iām borderline vegetarian anyway.
life is weird and so am i. I am an oddball, who believes I can get anyone I want. But itās saturday night and where am I? writing a tumblr post on a toilet.Ā
Today, alone, I hosted a radio show, I was a guest on a podcast, I cooked a bit and cleaned a bit, and slept in until 1:30. I drank too much coffee and wished I was interesting enough for Seinfeld to want to talk to me. I thought of friends in comedy, even though I know nothing of comedy, and how fun they would be if they were real.
I thought of corporations and how Iām in one, and how Iām okay with it. And how I think this nagging thing ofĀ āwhat else?ā will be there for a bit, until I either get way better or try something new.
I thought of how I want to figure myself out but I donāt know what that means. I read through letters I never sent. I almost cried. I may send them, but donāt want to seem too sappy. Maybe I will, maybe I wonāt.
I thought of projects I never do, and of people Iāll never see. I thought of halfhearted social attempts and of how they never pan out. I thought of living alone, and the benefit of it, and of how grateful I am that Iām doing what Iām doing. I thought of Sir Shadow. I wonder if he thinks down on the rest of us. I bet he doesnāt. But he kinda makes me think down on myself.
I thought of how talented women scare me. Of how they intimidate me. I though of how jealousy shapes my actions. Of how sometimes I donātĀ ālikeā when women are better than me (or get more attention than me) for things Iām good at. Or wish I was good at. I thought of how pathetic that is, and of how I need to be better. Lifting, not wishing.
I thought of being famous. Of how thereās a part of me that wants the world to know me. But thereās a part of me that doesnāt.Ā
I thought of friends and how I donāt think anyone could point to me and sayĀ āher. Thatās my best friend.ā I know they couldnāt. Because I canāt do that to anyone.
Iāve been awake for only 9 hours and itās getting late. If I stuck to a proper circadian rhythm Iād be asleep by now. But Iāll still probably go out. Iāll still try to meet people, but not really succeed.
The world is odd. I am odd. This time of year is odd.
Odd.
