|And as we discussed last semester, the Army Ants will leave nothing but your bones...
||[Nov. 6th, 2007|05:30 pm]
|[||Your mom ain't listening to
|||||Ben Folds - You've Got To Learn To Live With What You Are||]|
Music is my only psychiatric drug...
Self-expression becomes more difficult when you're paranoid that every word you write might reveal that you aren't as stoic and immovable as you would like others to believe. This leads me to spend my writing time with my ears buried in my iTunes library instead. Music has long been my refuge away from the world, after all.
This plane is definitely crashing
This boat is obviously sinking
This building's totally burning down
And my, and my (a whole bunch)
And my heart has slowly dried up
Things aren't great right now. I'm not fantastic and life is not a bowl of cherries. But that's life. Work is moving to a new office on the Missouri side of the state line. There's going to be a ridiculous amount of work getting the new space ready, but we haven't been able to get a timeline as to when we can get the place cabled and get our new phone system installed. I'll have to start paying taxes to both states again (moving to the other side of the state line is not a viable option). Whatever. Single again. I'm not happy about it and don't feel like talking about it, so don't ask. Life at home is as tedious as usual. Being social hasn't really worked out for me lately. Due to my ever-constant effort to compensate for my perpetual bad mood, I've become some immature caricature of who I'd like people to think I am. Or maybe that's who I am and I just hate to admit it to myself. Bleh, no matter. It isn't as though I actively seek out people to spend time around anyway. The rare occasions that I do never seem to pan out, so I've just given up on it.
there's still a little bit of your song in my ear
there's still a little bit of your words i long to hear
An old high school friend has expressed an interest in getting together to hang out. Aside from one really surreal party I attended that he and his wife threw, I haven't seen him since we graduated. We weren't particularly close in school, but we got along well. His wife and my sister have been talking lately, the cause behind his interest in the two of us hanging out. I've already convinced myself that a reunion would be a letdown for everyone involved, or at the very least for him. Blah blah blah.
That's not me
Where I please
I walk through walls
I float down the Liffey
I'm not here
This isn't happening
I'm not here
I'm not here
I'm meandering out to the middle of nowhere this weekend. If I had the money for an actual trip somewhere, I can think of a handful of places I'd rather go. As it is, I've not visited these particular folks in almost two years and it'll only cost me a tank of gas to visit, as opposed to 2 to 5 tanks. Maybe the time away will do me some good.
I can be pessimistic and optimistic at the same time, right? That isn't terribly hypocritical, is it? Contradictory and illogical, maybe.