Monday, March 28, 2011

Meticulously Medicated

Haven't written much lately. Not unless you count university essays as writing.

Which I don't.

There's been a wellspring of gnawing anxiety that seems to have dissipated - and now I just feel blank, passing through the motions like a good boy, nodding YES SIR and NO MA'AM when prompted. Pot just makes me realize how numb I am - drinking just seems to make me forget until my unearthly metabolism does away with all the ethanol and then there is just It and me.

A summer of meaningless employment awaits for another year of meaningless education for a meaningless future at a meaningless job. One meaningless thing leads to another.

No money. No girlfriend. No drugs. No fast cars. No amazing concerts. Just...existing. Trying to find my place it in all. Funny thing is, the more I look, the less it seems that I ever had one to begin with.

On top of it all, I get to be reminded of my alien self when the quiet hours of the night slip into the quiet hours of the morning. The only time I seem to be with friends, with lovers, loved ones, loving ones, dead ones, live ones, is sleeping - not even existing in this so-called reality.

If I drift far enough away, will I remember where I came from? And will I even want to...?