The bores of perception.
I can be nice for a week, but revert to obnoxious self aggrandizing diatribe in a snap. What does that teach people? I'm hard to trust, I'm harder to deal with, and I'm probably better off avoided. I've been aware of this much, much longer than I'm comfortable admitting but I'm starting to notice the difference that not being king of the kocks makes. My friends (the ones I see outside of Computer Land) are more accepting of my reaction when something bothers me. They see the subtle distinction between 'angry, probably bipolar because he's so FUCKING STUPID Simon' and 'A genuine injustice has been percieved but his reaction is being directed appropriately' Simon. What a miserably thin line it is that separates the two.
I'm sick of making blogs talking about nothing but my mental state (and butts), but I keep on making 'em and I'm starting to realize it isn't to broadcast my feelings and impressions on people, but to simply chronicle them either for later reference or just good old catharsis (this spot reserved for Diary/Diarhea joke). It genuinely scares me, like a monster under the bed, when I see my friends getting anxious simply because I'm annoyed at something mundane, even when I'm just kidding around. All I can think of is "Wow, if I die in the next week, what will my legacy be? 'I was nice briefly, but mostly acted as an abusive bastard who alienated himself from literally 100% of the people I encountered at one point or another'?" That fucking blows, man. I don't want that. So I guess the slow approach, the slowly gaining trust and maybe, gods fucking willing, respect of my peers, that I need. But it's so god damn disappointing every time I think 'Hey, I've finally made up with X, X knows I want to never take a shit down their neck again' and of course X can't be sure of that because of the billion other times I broke that promise and ruined their day because I'm just a piece of shit. No one has ever justifiably incurred my bizarre wrath. It's always been a reactionary shit circus and It really, genuinely rattles/scares/frightens me that I've been so abusive and spent the entire time repeating to myself in a mental corner of my brain "You're not like your dad, you're not like your dad, you're not like your dad..."
I haven't written anything for about a year. I've tried. I've been like "I vow to write at least 3 pages today." But of course that's not how it works. I squeeze out a paragraph or two that I review two days later and wince at for a bunch of made up writing follies that no one else notices. Maybe it's the Ritalin (that I stopped taking a month ago) poisoning my fucking brain to death. I've probably been ingesting solid state alzheimers for 4 years because I was too god damn retarded to finish school otherwise. I tried killing myself, I woke up the next day and thought 'Wow, what are the chances? I guess it's finally my big chance!' and then I depend on some cosmic magic motivator to get me off my duff and accomplish something. I'm getting bored with drugs. Pot and Mushrooms only entertain so much before becoming a habit for an unaccomplished mind. There's a lesson for any of you younger types experimenting with 'light' drugs: fucking moderate. Don't kill your brain halfway to stupid town like I did.
It snowed for the last 2 days straight, first time during the cold season. I'm hoping it sticks around until Christmas, I'm very much like the KKK in that respect I suppose.
Merry Christmas or Happy Holidays wherever you are.
