discoveries

#1 - kimmy at the bar while i'm working. she seems stoned, or slightly dazed with drink. talks effusively of this new thing she's discovered - well, it isn't new, she admits, and then confesses to being a 'fucking hippie' before swiftly describing the dichotomy between 'fucking hippie' and 'fucking punk hippie' - it's that the energy you give to the world comes back to you, that if you put out nothing but good energy then the universe is somehow, inexplicably bound to reflect and reciprocate nothing but good energy back to you.

without calling bullshit, i agreed with her, because i do in a way, and only in certain moments. this leads me to believe that there are different values of this mysterious quanta called 'energy' ... not, simply, as believed prior, an absolute binary state.

#2 - same goes for happiness. i have been spending the same amount of time at the bar as i always have, yet now and lately i am more cogent of when i don't need another. perhaps this will change. despite the nascent alcoholism and the curtailing of such (unless i'm a total hypochondriac and this is normal behavior) i am content around the edges. this, as always, leads to a sort of spike in my heartrate - i at once begin to question the fabric of my daily life. the apartment i have lived in comfortably begins its second year, and almost directly at the outset of it i am driven by this odd impulse to make it live-able. before this anniversary, i had done small things - in fits, and spurts. i constantly add books to my collection. i acquired a desk. then i painted a chalkboard on the wall. most recently, i added a full-length mirror & a rug. my seemingly noble goal of becoming 'upwardly mobile' and 'forward-thinking' has disintegrated, i've left it behind, mingling with the desperate dust. so now i'm here, aren't i? i'm here at this place of happiness. i have a stable, respectable job. i am far from poverty. i have steady social contact. hell, i'm even proximally linked with most of that in social media! so it seems i should be content.

perhaps this is human. perhaps the reason i am dissatisfied with contentment is that i secretly am not. perhaps the reason all of us feel this vague dissatisfaction with our lives is because this isn't how we were meant to live. i can't shake the feeling that this, all of this that has grown up around us, all of these walls and cities around us and these roads paved through it all ... i can't help the feeling that it isn't how it should be. that i'm a stranger to this type of life. i feel protean. people i say hello to freely on the street one day become people that i avoid the next -- and not out of fear, or dislike, but rather a kind of laziness which causes me not to want to have to interact - at all! yet it is impossible to avoid that when you are out of your house. hell, it's even impossible in your house. always running into ghosts. i find myself often wishing i were invisible.

#3 - i've been writing a lot more, yet it's all nothing. natalie goldberg says "keep the hand moving." i do that. but it is always the same story. boy is lonely, neurotic, and possessed of some very bizarre idiosyncrasies. meets a crazy girl while drinking in a bar. then i never finish it. the other story i'm always writing is crazy boy walks down the street towards his home, drunk. i feel like i'm just jerking off with this shit, lately. putting what i wish would happen on the page, and then putting what always does. not a day goes by i don't think about calling the counselling center and signing up again for a new counsellor. which of course means paying them the debt i owe. again. i don't know why i just don't do it.

hesitation is my curse.

#4 - no, that's it.