Tuesday, December 6, 2016

dear diary,
I have weekends when I allow myself to do nothing. I have weekends where I just focus on looking at tumblrs, xhamster, and wank my feelings and thoughts away.

It's a problem.

It's changing me and my mind, the way I seek pleasure and the way I seek anything else in life.

That beautiful orgasmic hit clears my mind, it is a control-alt-delete of my soul. All my emotional processing and backed up immediate random feeling memories are just wiped in a single rush.

But it's not real. For a brief blissful moment it is all completely wiped away.

Then it comes back slowly. Then I realise an amount of time has elapsed in my real life. I'm a real person. I have real life goals, I have aspirations, I have a vision of who I want to be.

It's not compatible with that addictive escapist mentality.

I miss mia.

I miss her telling me things. There's someone that I message occasionally who reminds me of her. Let's call her - Hidra.

Hidra is like a crack of light in a dark room or a hint of a dark shadow in a light room. I don't know, but she represents something beautiful and almost ephemeral. That's my idea of her and having a false idea of a real person is better than a real idea of a false persona.

I have little hints of a person. I need to find it.

Today I finished work late. I was busy with a christmas rota at work.

I got home late. I decided to comfort myself with some McDonalds. I eat in larger quantities but it doesn't show on my body as I work out so much. I think that if I ate properly I'd get a warrior's body.

When I got home I showered, ate briefly and then I worked on my to do lists.

As I worked on my to do lists I was watching the show Mr Robot and my head was slowly going into a particular place. There's something inside me. Something I must strive to become. I have forgotten about that side of me. I must strive very hard to be that person or to be a certain kind of person. It gives my life meaning and a sense of meaning, justification and [I pause to find the words]

I seek a sense of justification, a feeling of being worthwhile, of being good enough. The kind of thing that a person who has a six pack could just pull up their shirt and say, yup, here's the thing. Now let's talk about Athenian democracy.. or whatever normal people talk about.

I wonder if my intelligence is an equivalent of an intellectual six pack. I wonder if my perseverence and intensity makes me worthwhile.

I'm obsessing. I'm obsessive. I need to be obsessive - or do I? I don't know. i have a pile of books I haven't read, a list of movies I haven't seen, A bunch of audiobooks that will take decades to go through.

I'm trying so hard so fucking hard.

For what?

My thesis.
That seemed to be the thing that mattered
The thing that would emancipate itself from my feeble mind and become an immortal and present idea.

But that hasn't happened.
I hold on to the hope that it does

As it does, I notice my friends and people from my facebook peer group whom I knew from school, university and elsewhere living their lives.

Having children, getting married. Owning homes

I think I'd like that kind of life.

I like a life where I have a desk and a computer and a nice notebook. I like having a desk at work. I like being the go-to person for a national newspaper.

My sense of self.
New and old
Is crashing into each other
What will remain

That's what my introspection will decide.

I'm not focussing on the past
Except when it distresses me
Which is often
Including in my dreams

I should sleep.

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