So for a couple of days I was depressed and I wrote this but didn’t want to express my fragility publicly but I’m doing pretty good now so F it this is my blog and a journal of sorts and it’s going up. voila
My computer hums at me. The dishes pile. The coffee is sour. My feet are cold and I am directionless. I have no bread. My stomach aches after lentils and butter. The room is not cozy. This place is no sanctuary. Motivation eludes me. Excuses own me. I read until I can do nothing else but sleep. I sleep until I physically hurt from being in bed too long. My job is mundane and I avoid it. I know this is unhealthy. I don’t even want to listen to music. I cannot follow a plot. I forgot to pay the parking ticket again. I haven’t brushed my teeth in over 24 hours. I am a slave to the computer and it makes me check things on it. It beckons to me even when it is off, such a power it holds over me. Even when the hum is off, I imagine the hum. The hum is calling me to check things. New things are happening all of the time and I’m missing them. And they don’t involve me. Too much information is bad for me. I am fragmentary. I am leaving in 15 days. I have nowhere to go. I have everywhere to go. I am directionless. I have bought no Christmas presents. Christmas is coming too soon. Bad timing. I am owned by excuses. The days are too short to do anything, and I am owned. The police sirens and the train horns are really annoying. The trains sound like dying, angry, whales. They are damn annoying. They shouldn’t honk. I can save me from anything but myself. When no challenge confronts me I create the illusion necessary to fulfill that need. It is always the same illusion, but seemingly darker every time.
I’ve been in this illusion many a time, stuck. Had a vacation to the illusion in High School for a month or two, in college for God knows how long, and I can’t remember the last time before this but I’m sure it happened. I think I am always a different person when I go into the illusion than I am when I come out. And I can’t remember the way out, but I am pretty optimistic that if I just keep wondering and wandering I’ll come out. I like to think I’m somehow stronger when I come out, but I don’t know if that is true. I don’t know if it’s true because this is just an illusory attempt at hardship. Real hardship makes people stronger, how about 21st century illusory hardship? Some of that middle-class, white collar, hardship. I just don’t know. Also, just incase this little note hasn’t brought you deep enough into my psyche, I unfortunately don’t really become disillusioned into becoming ridiculously happy and driven – then I suppose I would be labeled a manic. Nope. I just go from a deep pit to fairly nice plains to perhaps some rolling hills that always meet with the plains and go on out to a plateau (very boring) that ends on a cliff which leads down to a Marianas-esque trench (wee!).
Happy Holidays.
16th Street 
Elisa Marie said,
April 16, 2009 at 11:57 am
I am glad Jesus lives in your heart now, because this was sad… but we all have our “dark times”, but now that the light is within you, I pray it never goes out!
Josh Farrow said,
July 18, 2016 at 11:14 pm
It was a bit sad, but to me it is also a little bit beautiful in a nostalgic and melancholic sort of way. A bit too self-deprecating for my taste now, but c’est la vie, it was very real at the time. What’s most interesting about this post now is that you read this in April, knowing full well what you were getting into and still married me that fateful 16th day of August! 🙂