the sun shines on wet cherry blossoms... and I am very, very unhappy.
no-one has contacted me yet about picking tracks for karoshi. is it just too soon? or is it not that appealing of an idea? is my music just not that good? my insecure brain is hardwired to barf up these kinds of thoughts. and I have to deal with them at work, instead of curled up in three loving cats. this is clearly my fault for getting up this morning instead of being reasonable and suffocating on my pillow quietly during the night.
in ralph-awful moods like this one, I really start to wonder if being exceptional has a future. is this the best that society feels I deserve? not in terms of, friends, or awesome experiences, but security and quality of life... I mean... I work a job. a staff of highly trained monkeys could do my job, any passably bright person able to lift 50lbs. could do my job...
is it time for me to stop focusing on music and poetry and maybe, travel or start a family? being normal human things most any passably bright person would want to do, and be able to do?
what would that say about everything my life has stood for? what would that say about art and its value? what does that say about society, that I should stand (perhaps) a better chance at actually being happy if I in a sense destroy what is so unique and special about me?
this is a day in an indefinite progression of days, I know I will get through it, and the next day, and the one after that. but fuck, do I hate this fucking shit motherfucker fuck crap fuck. god fucking damn it.
in some respects, I feel large and in charge...
in others... completely helpless, frustrated and inferior.