I know I must believe in myself as the Talmud says, but it still helps to know that others believe in me.
Perhaps that everything here seems so repetitive is a sign of something. A sign just how boring I am. Or how boring my life is at the moment. Maybe how boring my writing is.
“But really, how useful would I find being a BS artist?”
In this life where enjoyment is paramount, I can’t even experience what matters most.
Maybe I’m afraid I’ll belittle myself like I have a tendency to do, maybe that’s why I don’t talk much.
I’m going to see if I can post every other day. Not sure I’ll really be able to maintain that rate but it’s worth a shot.
Listening to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. It reminds me of twilight. Of something ended. Of the sun setting. Of Death. It’s just the one piano, but it is very powerful. Sure his symphonies maybe inspiring, but this is haunting.
Meanwhile, I can’t even get myself to send an IM to a person. What am I so afraid of? What other people think? Caring about what other people think goes against so much of what I used to think. Maybe I just want to be alone with my thoughts. I do too much of that already.
Don’t make the mistakes I made. Live your life. 28 year olds aren’t supposed to be full of regret. As if getting older means only more regret.
It’s weird. The guys been dead for months, but the blog still gets updated like clockwork every other day. No one wants to hear about this dull tragedy – except the morbidly fascinated.
I’m still not sure who reads this stuff on a regular basis. The only way I can know is by comments. . .
3 comments:
Who's been dead for months?
I think it's a good idea to keep up the writing, it's an excuse to not talk to me, right? j/k...just juggling this idea around..how about a post a day? Or is that asking too much?
I would be dead for months. . .
Yeah, a post a day is a little too much at the moment. One day that might change.
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