I think this is an odd place to start personal writing, but with any luck no one will ever see this and there won't be any issues. I'm sitting in history class right now on February 5th, 2018. Assuming I live long enough I wonder if I'll look back on this moment as any kind of turning point. Probably not. I can't follow through on anything. Anyway Andy, I'm starting this because honestly I have nothing else to do. Right now my history teacher is droning on about western European history, something I learned about extensively about 4 years ago. Regardless of what he's saying I should do well on the midterm and final. I usually find that most information I need to succeed in a class like this is either on the course website, or, with any luck, the entire rest of the internet. Was that poor grammar? I hope so, if for nothing but to piss off everyone who ever invested in my education. I suppose that's the burden I've been cursed to bear. Education. I suppose I have no right to call my education a burden, but in many ways it certainly feels like that. This is year 13 in what could be a lifelong struggle to feel like I measure up to peoples expectations. I'm not intrinsically smart. Not a bit. But I can thank my parents for their initial rigor when raising my sister and I. Lucy's turned out alright, over there in Minnesota killing the game at volleyball and school like always. I'll forever be the fuck up brother who exists merely to remind my parents that even though our whole family has gone to a ridiculously expensive private school for the last literally forever, we're still just regular people who do regular things and have regular kids that like to skip class, do drugs, and play sports. My teacher is currently talking about the variety of lines of thought in Europe during the 1500's. He's saying the monarchs and heads of Europe are upset at this variety because it makes it difficult to rule. Sometimes I wish I lived back then, or at least in a time when I wasn't so surrounded my amenities and comforts that I lose all sight of real meaning. Theres like 25,000 kids at this school. Thats fantastic isn't it? So many young minds clamoring to consume and spit back information. I'd like to think so. I'm not one of them though. But I don't mean that in any sort of conceited self-affirming way. I mostly mean that it's only been a term and I'm already entirely disenchanted with god damn everything going on around me. What a variety of people I'm surrounded by. What fantastic opportunities I'm presented with. I know I'm coming off like a whiny little bitch. Any honestly I am in pretty much every way possible. And I also know I'm not the first to feel dejected by society or whatever, but I don't care. I'm not writing this for anyone but myself. Maybe subconsciously I'm hoping this will someday be released and I'll be praised (maybe posthumously) as some sort of candid genius. That won't happen though. Definitely not. It'll be a long time before anyone else sees this.
I'm starting to have what feels like crippling anxiety. Maybe it's tied to my profuse drug use. I think I'm gonna try and stop using drugs and alcohol for a while but well see how that really goes. It seems like every time I breathe I feel the constant pressure on me for the first time again. I get goosebumps every time I say anything. I wonder what I did do deserve this? Nothing. Who am I kidding. I'm a piece of shit but so is everyone else and that fact on its own is totally arbitrary. This is gonna come off as mildly insane but no mind, I'm writing this for myself right? No one else will read this right? I say these things tentatively because if there's anything I've learned in my short run at life it's that I can't trust myself. How could I? Anyway what I was getting at is the subject of suicide. I don't think I've honestly ever considered it, but I find a sort of comfort in the thought of it. That regardless of what happens now, a flip of the switch and it's like it never happened. What a blessing it would be to lack consciousness. I sit here overthinking everything and giving myself panic attacks for no reason other than I know what a fuckup I am. All of this may sound fairly extreme but you know you're a pussy Andy. When's the last time you did anything of value? When's the last time you faced a problem head on? Literally never.
Well thats all for now. Honestly Ill probably be back tonight cause I'm slowly losing my mind. Hopefully these can start to serve as a good gauge of my sanity
10:52 AM
11:09 AM
I figure I'd pick back up writing almost right away, not sure why, maybe I can feel my sanity fading especially hard today. My stomach hurts like a bitch, probably because all I've put in me today was a tall coffee from the bistro. I don't really know what to do with myself right now. I think of the faces I passed on the way to and from class today. I wonder if any of them thought of me like I think of them. The essential reason I think I'm even still alive is that I love people. I mean that's a lie. I really despise people. But I also love them. I'm constantly searching for validation even if I can't admit it to myself. I think we all are for the most part, and I unendingly admire those who somehow don't. How could you not? People are really all that there is, even if it's hard to accept sometimes.
I'm laying in my poorly made bed right now eating almonds because I couldn't find anything else to make my stomach not hurt. I might throw up. Probably not. I have class in 45 minutes and it might be the last thing I want to go to. At least in this class I'll be learning something and that can distract me from myself for being alive for a moment. I think if anyone read this they'd call me overly dramatic and narcissistic. They're not wrong but I think there's a certain beauty in that. I know pretty much nothing is important, but in a way that makes everything the most important. One of the most infuriating things to me currently about being alive is my desire to reproduce. Why do I lust after girls? This wouldn't be a problem at all if I were handsome or somehow good with people, but those two things are realities I've never had the pleasure of experiencing. Sure, I've had sex before at this point in my life, but I think it's only because I thought it might add some sort of meaning to this constant onward march of life. Boy was I wrong. It is difficult to be a 19 year old boy and go a whole day without thinking about sex. Especially when surrounded by girls who's entire life thus far has been based on their ability to get men to have sex with them. Wouldn't that be nice. I guess that's the worst part of life isn't it? Some people are just born a certain way and they're on track to success immediately.
I think I desperately want to be cool, and I don't really know why. I see these guys on campus wearing an array of bullshit that I perceive as dope or something. Of course they're followed around by small girls wearing the same pants. I wonder what a day in the life of a psychopath like that is like? Probably full of the same misery as mine, just masked by people constantly wanting to have sex with you.
I wish I knew my goal in writing this. Hopefully with time my intentions will become clear, but for now I'll take advantage of the catharsis, and hope no one is ever unfortunate enough to stumble upon this. I just have this desire to continue pouring out writing. Writing makes me feel less alone, which is something I don't value enough. Being at school has made me more alone than ever. Being isolated has brought out the weirdest parts of me, the strings in my brain being pulled in odd directions for the sake of surviving another day. That's really all I'm doing right now. Surviving. Im functionally broke, but my parents will give me money when I need it, and I think that partially cripples me. What really scares me is that my friends used to keep me content, but now I'm entirely uninterested in them. In most people honestly. I love talking to people, simply because it's interaction, and lets me, for a moment, understand them. Or maybe not, likely most of the time it's some insane fantasy I've created for them in my head when in reality they're regular grounded people contributing to society far more than I. I find myself feeling like I'm stuck in a state of constant intoxication. Not in any physical sense, my body is still entirely controlled, but in a mental sense. I feel like I'm in a walking air bnb that belongs to someone else because It couldn't possibly be the property of such an irrational and bizarre individual.
Drugs seem to be the best escape from my constant uphill battle against myself. Alcohol makes it easier for me to tune out myself, but drugs. Oh drugs. I don't usually use anything too strong, aside from the occasional acid tab or research chemical, but the rest of the time I allow weed to sedate me into a state where I can ignore my surroundings. Recently actually this has become less and less true, which scares me because I may need to outsource my desire for a barrier between myself and the world to something stronger. I've done percocet before and that was definitely enjoyable, but opioid addiction is neither sustainable nor healthy, and though I care very little about either of those factors, I find myself avoiding the stuff.
Well I think this is it for today. Tomorrow I'll be back to continue filling the catalog of manic gibberish that makes up who I am.
11:46 AM