2005-07-26 - 1:25 a.m.

what is there to say, really? i haven't done anything that merits much attention. nothing that needs to be documented.

i'm stuck. it doesn't flow like it used to. i thought maybe it was because of the new location..the fact that i know everybody on my livejournal friends page. that i knew no one in real life here. but i might be wrong. it seems that way.

i thought if i came here, i'd have something to say again. that i'd be passionate and leak profound thoughts and blow even my own mind at a later date.

i found last weekend, that while escaping the drunken mass hysteria downstairs, i could write decently. i sat here and read things i'd written from 2002 and 2003 and i thought "i wrote that? those thoughts came from my head?" don't get me wrong, i have no ego. i'm not saying i'm talented or anything of the sort. what i am saying is that when comparing diaryland writing to livejournal writing, diaryland was better by far. and i can't for the life of me find the difference.

i wasn't any more depressed then than i am now. and i've always believed that depression and anger fuels creativity. i'm just as happy now as i was then. i'm never consistenly happy. never constantly happy. it comes in spurts. maybe like a growth spurt. it happens, then it sputters out. putters out. you might as well wreck it; the gas ran out. it's no good anymore. it's over, it's done with. and every other cliche, cheesy bullshit drivel that you care to carry on about. that's what i do. i pull from what i already know. i change a few words around and call it my own. is anything really original? but let's not start that.

let's see. what next? my future? my present? my past? you know my past. you know a little of my present. i don't even know my future. fuck it - it's nonexisitent. but i can pretend. anybody that's ever said, wisely, to take it one day at a time was right. because if you take it one day at a time, you don't stop to think that you know for a fact that your future isn't bright. there's no perfection, no happiness. just the same as it always has been. everything comes and goes. nothing stays. nothing stays the same.

very little really encourages me to be content. the main thing that does - he sleeps with me at night. he holds my hand during waking hours and when he's not around, he's still around, you know? we've been through the shit that i know everybody goes through at some point in their lives, but we put up with it. we sludged through it and came out for the better. not to mention he serenades me with songs about warwick davis.

this is garbage. rambling. sorry.

it's better than nothing - to me.

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