Friday, October 23, 2009

There's a place in the world for the angry young man...

It's nice having a blog no one ever visits. I can post virtually anything here and it's like throwing a stone in the ocean. The ocean doesn't give a shit. There's some self satisfying thrill in it though, as if the voice(s) in your head has an audience. I guess that's delusion. Or delirium. Or least that's what google seems to think.

It makes you wonder how the fuck people make money off blogs. Especially the ones who post NO worthwhile content, or just repost from outside sources. Whatever the case, no one's reading this drivel and that affords me all the more freedom to be honest in this big, loud, empty corridor of internet land.

If you scroll back through this blog (you being illusory reader, or probably just me) you'll find an angry little note called "Gerisacaphobia" or something where I detested the notion of aging into 23. The entry ended with "I'm just really unhappy", and this was posted Nov 2nd, 2008. Funnily enough after that...I played one more gig with my band (Nov. 15th) before being backstabbed and abandoned by them (socially at least) in Chicago. I rallied back with a new job, saved money, and fucked off to Los Angeles. Here we are just about a year later and I can safely say....I'm just really unhappy. Fancy that. 365 days later. Nothing accomplished. No richer, no poorer, no thinner, nothing. Still just spinning wheels on a computer while life keeps marching on around me. It's almost disgusting. Once again, I face another birthday - 24 - and I'm quicker to grab my little white flag rather than my rifle. It's not depression. People are depressed when they are sad for no apparent reason. I know why I'm like this. I know why I'm constantly disappointed, discontent, dis-everything. Because despite my best efforts, nothing has clicked. The blurry image of what I need to do with my life has not come any clearer into focus. It's as if every move I make (geographical, social, professional, personal) is like what I mentioned earlier - throwing a stone in the ocean.

I put in my hours. I got a job. I earn my living. I motivate myself everyday to get up, work, go to the gym, stay in shape, eat healthy, practice music, etc. For what? Absolutely no gratification comes from any of it. But in the spirit of routine and vanity, I keep on trucking. No one cares and you can't expect them too. Everyone else seems to be miserable too. Mark my words, one year from now (Nov. 2010) I can bet these feelings will persist. What a fucking waste.

I'm not lamenting growing up, or my job, or issues with the opposite sex, or any of that nonsense. I just feel like I've been standing up in the front row of life for 24 years waiting for the show to start and it just ain't fucking happening. I guess that's what happens to everyone though. Heh. See that? I cannot even rest in the spirit of my own misery without understanding that everyone else is in the exact same situation and not one bit of my and anger and insecurities is a unique sensation. Fuck. That kind of circular thinking really is annoying.

Well that's enough from me. Can I get an applause?


Another stone in the ocean.

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