Ahhhhhhh

My mind is a mess tonight, but it always is when I go searching through the remains of things I've written in the past few years. I was so much more confident in my writing and in my music before I started over-analyzing everything; it's so fucking tiring, seeing all the cheap copies people make of every original thing that comes about. I developed such a fear of becoming one of these clones that I just stopped creating altogether. I've never recovered from this, as you could probably tell by the fact that I haven't produced a single piece of recorded music for over two years; aside from some rough acoustic demos of songs that I swear to myself I'll finish someday. I'll never finish them.

Creating and maintaining this blog is an attempt at enforcing positive habits of production. If I can author a massive wealth of word-works, I can begin subtly sneaking in the more personal things that I'm afraid cannot stand on their own. Maybe someday someone will see the beauty of these minute details that I consider to be the most defining pieces of me as a man; perhaps someone could finally come close to understanding me, or at least be inspired enough to make an effort. Either way, it feels good to let even a little of it out.

I really debated with myself whether or not to write in here tonight, as I am in possibly the worst mindset that I could be in, and I'm so fucking tired. My wit is about as dry tonight as Hillary Clinton's pussy would be after spending a week in Death Valley with only salt cubes for food. In this condition, I know that eloquence is out of the picture, and my energies are entirely negative; so interesting thoughts are not likely to occur to hold anyone's attention. These are the moments (and a moment can stretch on forever) when I really crave death, but I'm not a pussy so I usually force myself to sleep. But seriously, what is the point?

The strongest part of me knows the truth about this world, and it takes all of the other parts to subdue it, keep it in check. God damn, it is so tiring. In the words of a million other people, "I'm tired of being tired, I'm sick of being sick." I shaved my head and my eyes reminded me how much I've been hiding. Oh, how long I've been hiding.

The reason I forced myself to write this is because this is the absolute worst side of me, a facet I try to kill every moment of my waking life; but it is me, nonetheless. I am less than alone, for I don't even have myself to pass time with.

It's useless to go on here, as I can't even pinpoint the things that cause this, at least not enough to make them viable to anyone but myself. I'm fucking miserable. At least I finally took a stab at it.

I'll write again in the morning if I feel like a human being.