APATHY

I've been feeling really unmotivated lately.  Unmotivated to do anything of any purpose.  I haven't read, I haven't communicated, I haven't written.  I find life and surroundings so exhausting, so draining and so detrimental.  I try and keep my eyes open to what's going on around me but when I get a good grasp of the matters of this world, all I want to do is close my eyes again.  I want to nod off and fall asleep to a place where I'm not in control but my dearly beloved subconscious can reign over the illusions I ride through until awakening.

I wouldn't even have a name of the place that I feel I am at.  Limbo would be too vague, too simple - maybe even a cop out.  I wish that I could exist in this world somewhere between what reality is and what I wish it could be.  I dare not call it expectations because expectations are frivolous and stupid.  In fact, I find expectations to be the work of insanity.  How dare you expect anything in this constantly chaotic world.  So foolish.  This place I am in, it is a precarious balance that I dance in - between never wanting to be informed of anything and constantly needing to be informed of what is going on/how I'm feeling/how others are feeling, etc.

I've stopped pondering things, I've stopped speculating.  Just for now.  And my nails are making it really hard to type lately, which makes it hard to surface my thoughts onto these blank pages.  But I refuse to get rid of them.

I'm mostly waiting for this god damn election to be over.  I can't even explain how much I hate politics, everything and everyone that has anything to do with it.  I've never heard so many lies in my life.  I wanted to slam Biden and Ryan's heads together tonight - just crush their skulls into a bloody pulp.

I'm disjointed because I never get to focus.  I'm constantly going going going - doing doing doing.  I wish I could get paid to write instead of get paid to write emails to people trying to sell their business, trying to buy a business, asking stupid questions, being fucking stupid.  I wish that I could sit at home all day with my pills and my alcohol and my weed and just create the thoughts that run through my mind into artistic displays of insanity and perfection.  Blogging is lame.