Friday, November 3, 2017

FEAR AND LOATHING IN....NOWHERE

There are times I loathe the world.

Too deep a feeling, but not in a “millennial” sense 
(you know, those so-called depressed blabbermouths who can’t stop announcing what they are feeling. There is a big difference between depression and craving for attention).

That’s why I shut myself up and don’t talk much when I do. Because even the world doesn’t deserve to know what I am going through.

I’m not like them, but I can pretend.

I catch myself asking what these days are for.

I catch myself pleasuring myself with porn – a series of scratchy discs on the fourth drawer.
Repetitive stomping of flesh. Flap flap flap. In 5-10minutes, it’s over and I find myself reaching out for something to read. Other senses need to be triggered.

Some old music magazines I love collecting or maybe the daily bread to balance my guilty ordeal.
Something to distract this restless mind.

Sleep – that I need according to my neurologist, but what is it for but for dreams to be nested. 
Then what?

I have putting my writing off and I resent myself for that. There are ideas wriggling like worms, in search of a blatant hole to peek on. But I can’t seem to find a proper time to collect them and spill them. A proper canvass. I have been criticizing myself for not being good enough.

It doesn’t help that people don’t even recognize that I write differently than other songwriters. That I play with words more thoroughly. That I pay attention.

They want the usual hooks.  The usual rhymes. The usual staccato.  And the problem is words are taken for granted.

And I am getting tired recently.

But I am glad to be alive. Honestly.  These questions just linger once every blue moon.

Yes I am lying. 
It is more than what I expect. 

humdrum conundrum

Learning things about myself again.

That I am currently unstable in terms of career. 

I can do my work with my eyes closed so it is easy money. The company is decent too, a place secure enough to provide compensation possibly for my whole working years. But it does not excite me.

And don’t get me started with office politics. I am getting used to being numb and minding my own business because everything’s futile. I’ll always be the villain if I speak up. 

No, I am not looking for a job. I am not that kind of person who hops from one office to another, seemingly unsure of his life’s purpose. But I have to admit that I kept thinking of doing freelance work.

Talk about unstable.

I just hope to catch up on my sleep. I mean I need it after my health scare (I’ll write about it soon). And do a lot of things at my own time. But do I have the discipline? Nope --- that I am sure of. 

So where do I go from here?

At least I get to drink good coffee (ESSENCE wins as the best 3-in-1 concoction out there) and I am allowed an hour nap at the clinic’s office. That’s what I look forward to every working day.  

That’s enough for now.