Saturday, June 19, 2004
can't sleep again though i really should cos i have to start cramming tmr as well as work. god i haven't touched this thing for such a long time, everything's changed. everything except me that is. i look back at the last six years of my life and see absolutely no discernible difference. apart from the fact that i'm now 19 and in uni, my life has remained the same monotonous piece of shit that it always was. or is that just a side effect of not having a life to speak of per se? i honestly don't know. there's something wrong with me. i can't socialise like a normal person. hell even the fact that i have to think about socialising makes me weirder than normal people. its like that story about the centipede which used to dance really beautifully, even though she had 100 legs. and then there's the turtle or some other evil creature who is jealous of the centipede's dancing and starts asking the centipede which leg exactly she lifts first, and whether she moves her 99th leg before her 45th. stuff like that. so when the centipede starts analysing her own dancing, she loses all pleasure and spontaneity from dancing and never dances again. that's me, except i am my own turtle which is even worse. sometimes i think to myself, why make life so hard for yourself. you used to be fine, happy, able to talk to anyone - can't you just revert back? the scary thing is that i can't. i've been acting this way for such a long time now that its become a part of me, and even if it started off as an act, now its really just me. i wish i was a strong enough person to end it all. but i'm weak and pathetic, so there isn't any likelihood of that happening. so don't worry gentle reader (hah! why don't i just scream into a void... same number of people are listening. man the closest i've come is half a bottle of whisky and some asprin - as if that would do anything.actually, two week ago i almost jumped off home bar. don't really wanna recall it but KB had made some arrangements, ironically through G to get into home. i hated it. full of electronica inhouse shit. not my cup of tea. as a result i stood on the balcony looking down into darling harbour wishing i had the guts to jump off the wall into oblivion. ok, fine, more like australian idol wannabes who were already lining up. and i thought i had no life. didn't help when G comes up to me and kindly reminds me that it costs 25 bucks to get into the shithole and tonnes of ppl would die to get in for free. what does he expect? my eternal gratitude? yes, another night of failed alcoholic bingeing. there's got to be something wrong with me chemically or maybe my brain's wired wrong. why doesn't alcohol make me happy???????
