i spend most of my days in my closet.
usually in the dark.
not writing, usually.
just sort of goofing off on the internet.
see, all my classes are at night, and most of the normal people i know work during the day.
hence the closet.
you're probably wondering why the closet.
right?
well, i live in a studio.
with a massive walk-in closet (and a scooby-doo style revolving door, which sadly, goes unused most of the time) that had a little vanity.
and not being a little vain, I decided it would be my desk.
which works out well, cause the only phone jack in the place is next to it, so I can hook up my DSL right there.
and i listen to yappy dog (who usually wakes me up at about 11) and fill my brain with fascinating, useful and useless information on all manner of things.
i don't have a tv, which i told myself would make me write more, or at least read more, but it doesn't really.
it just makes me internet more.
sometimes i get really lonely in my apartment.
in 27 years, i've never lived by myself.
sometimes i get lonely and as you know, sometimes i have good bouts of self doubt and self loathing.
i don't drink as much as i did, which i guess is good, but let me tell you, i wish i had a bottle of bourbon right now.
not cause i'm in a self loathing state, just cause i'd like a little maker's and water.
i don't know why, but i don't feel like writing much anymore.
i'm happy.
i have good friends, but you know, i had good friends in tulsa, too.
i have an unbelievably amazing girl.
which i didn't before.
but, i don't know.
i don't know what's wrong with me.
but i sleep all the time.
and i'm tired the rest of the time.
but i'm happy a good 70% of my days, which is about 30% more than usual.
maybe it's the lump in my head.
the one that feels like the tumor.
the thought that, even if it is benign, i'm gonna have another scar on my head.
i guess maybe i feel out of place.
i've always felt out of place, a little uncomfortable.
like everybody is always thinking, "what's he doing here?"
i want to do something amazing.
and not really for approval's sake, because if it was something just i thought was amazing, that'd be good enough.
but i think that desire stops me from doing things prematurely.
like if they cease to be amazing (and most ideas sound amazing in my head, until they start materializing, then there's always something missing) i just stop.
never give them a chance to be good, average, or even bad.
and thus lose out on the practice, the process, all the things necessary to do something amazing.
be right back...
gin&tonic time (when's there's no bourbon in the house, i get desperate)
jesus, i don't know.
just getting some things out, you dig?
there'll be more story either tomorrow or monday.
sometimes i just wish i had a big house where everyone i love could come and live.