I've just lost interest this week. I assume it's a fleeing consumption of general disinterest. It happens every now and then. I just can't force enthusiasm. Everything seems to be pelting me and rolling away. I could absorb and react, if I wanted, I suppose. The inertia of importance and futility are not balancing in my personal ledger these days. I'm tired. I guess too tired to attempt to muster up the will to really give a shit. I'm not hungry. I'm not thirsty. I don't crave. I don't want to connect. I don't need. Hell, I don't even want this cigarette.
Yeah, I'm lonely, who isn't. But, fuck it all, I'm tired.
I'm tired of being slack, pointing a finger, waiting for myself to kick in and go go go. I can certainly see the appeal of stagnation. Unfortunately, dealing with that takes more effort than putting off what I really want. Excuses are hard work to maintain and even more difficult to transform into truth. Sucks either way, I've done both many times.
Right now, I want neither.
Depression, no. I don't feel that. Monotone, yeah, that's probably closer. What is it worth? What is the point? What function are these things serving? Having the answers to the questions are more tiresome than not.
Yeah, it's a bummer, maybe, but I'm not bummed. Just a general brush off reflection of my surroundings as of late. My feelings have little to do with my actions. Maybe that is where the looming disconnection is seeping in from. Who knows. I'd ask who cares, but it's pointless when even I don't. I'd probably stop typing this second, if I felt like rising.
It is impossible to reason away that I don't want what I want when I can't make the decision unless I have it first. Chiding myself for avoiding the pursuit has pulled in all the energy from the pursuit itself. Yeah, it makes little sense. I feel a little ashamed that I've put myself in the forefront for telling others they shouldn't do the same. That has to be why I identify with all the similarities I see around me. I won't give up on the possibility that I will change things (whether I do or not), but it is much easier to be someone else's cheerleader. It is an easy thing to see but a hard thing to address: I can solve the problems of the universe more effectively and eagerly than I care to my own. I only wish I could say that relates only to how disengaged I feel at this moment, but I have no reason to lie. It's there, I'll take it, but the procrastination must be too sweet a fodder for self berating. Up until now, the pursuit only resulted from boasting myself into irrevocable corners, and later, finding that I just couldn't take it anymore. Is that where I am now? Somewhere in between. Circumstances aren't dire enough to break me out of self-loathing and into an uncertain, immediate leap into the projected fate? Who fucking knows. I do know that when I feel my job is in jeopardy, the first thing I do is look up writing jobs and places to perform stand-up. A strange reaction for someone as self-preservant as I. It should be telling, yet here I type. Something has to change. It has to. Because I'm getting sick of listening to myself. The justifications have long since passed booooring. Hearing myself describe achievements in past tense is as uninteresting to say as, I assume, uninteresting to hear.
From now on, I'm backing off. It is an odd way to see things, but I think it may be possible that the fear of the unknown is less problematic than the fear of the known. Having nothing to grasp may be easier than not grasping what you want. Ignorance without direction is a lot less difficult to explain than why it's there once you know. Not being able to find it sounds more feasible than not taking it.
This is yet another new concept for this year (of many, ms. eso). Not knowing and hoping something would come along, WOULD be so so much easier. But, then again, nothing I've ever done has been. I can only assume nothing I ever will do will be any different.


Though this is a worn, so worn, beaten, and regurgitated subject, I do feel like getting up now.