Hmm. I wish I had something worth reporting, but I'm afraid I do not, so you'll just have to bear with me.
I wonder what's in store for tomorrow. Or not even tomorrow but the future near and far. I anticipate the destruction of the world, yet I know it is far away. And I wonder if I would welcome it if it were not so far away. I'm curious what it is like not to have flesh to hide in. You'll have to forgive me; I just watched Seven, so my mind is filled with dark and gooey filth. Would you have shot him?
I despise where I'm at right now. I work to pay for things I do not need but please me. It pays for school, which I do not even know why I am attending. My free time is plentiful, I suppose, but it is so empty. I have no reason to live, and I have no reason to die. I watch, I wait, and I grow more weary. I need a sense of purpose, yes?
I look at others and wonder what they have that I am missing. How do they keep going? What's the secret? Or is it that I am afflicted with something everyone else is missing? I prefer to think that I am the one missing something. The happy gene. The survival gene? Blue jeans?
I would be quite content as a sponge. Free of worry, fear, regret, love, beauty, honesty, and all those other sordid creations of the human brain. I'm comfortable in water already, so I'm halfway there. A bath sounds really good right now.
When my electrical current fused with flesh, did it have any idea what it was getting into? If we have a consciousness when we are but a spark, surely I would not have willingly chosen to be bound in a human form. The choice was not mine. And here I am, begging the question "Why?" Is there some lesson to be served from this? Will I know in five years? Will I ever know? I'm wasting the resources of those who think they know.
I think too much. Do people strive to have company to keep them from thinking? Distractions to keep them from contemplating whether their lives have meaning or not... going with the flow and accepting things they cannot change. I feel it is all for progress, but what is the point of progress? Why bother? Why must we push ourselves toward a goal we're not even sure exists? And now I'm thinking in Fight Club thoughts. I want to live off of roots and small animals and not think about money or education or evolution. And if I'm not fantasizing about this sort of thing, I'm dreaming of the Star Trek utopia. How nice would it be to live without worry?
I'm deranged.
later...
2:13 am
*listening to Wolfsheim*
So very very purple is my desktop now. So purple are my nails and the bruise on my knee.
Have you seen my mind? I think I left it around here somewhere... That's what I get for letting it off the leash.
I'm beginning to wonder if truly going mad would be better than where I am now. At least if I were insane, I wouldn't have to cope with those pesky little rational thoughts.
It's not as if my life is terribly bad. I keep trying to tell myself this. It's getting repetitive. Maybe if I download Bobby McFerrin's "Don't Worry, Be Happy" I will go insane.
With or without love, I'm still a cranky bitch.
moving but still