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@ 8:15 p.m.
i kept meaning to write, and then i would just be meh. and eventually i just lost the will to even care to think about writing or care about the fact that i haven't written in over a month. i keep saying i want to try to write more consistently but at this point even i don't know if i mean it. i kind of want to continue with it, but then i'm kind of glad i don't have to write in here. it's weird to admit but i guess i'm just not who i used to be. i really, really wish that i could go back to the old days of diaryland. now that i finally learned PHP and javascript, and i can make all these fancy websites, there's really no point in me offering something nobody will use.
i have maroon 5's "back at your door" playing repeatedly for the last few days, and i honestly wish i knew more music like this, not exactly r&b, not exactly pop, not exactly blues.. maybe it's all of it, but it's so awesome i wish i knew more bands with this type of music.
i haven't been on ro too much. i keep thinking i should just quit. what a waste of money, but then i go and spend $75 on the damn game, so i guess i'm playing again? i haven't actually done anything active on it in over a month. i keep wanting to make better, stronger characters, but i can't help but think what's the point. i almost sort of wish someone would delete my account and i could be done with it. but then again, it's not like i have anything going for me in real life, god i really feel like i don't have anything anymore these days.
i'm a little pissed off about work because i found out today that the person they hired a couple months ago is getting paid more than me. quite a bit more than me. and it pisses me off a shitload because she hasn't even been here 3 months, which means that she probably will get a raise by the end of the 3rd month, the whole thing pisses me off. it made me want to look for a new job. oh yea and they hired another new guy at work 2 days ago. he graduated from fucking berkley. why the fuck is he working here, and that kind of makes me wonder if he's going to be getting paid more than me now too. god i don't know why i bother to help out and do extra work. that new girl got fucking paid for overtime. he didn't pay me an extra penny for staying overtime nearly every day for about almost a month. so fucking fuck that. he's taking advantage of me because he knows i'm naive. god what a bunch of bullshit, i hate the world. enough about that
i keep wondering if i'll be more than what i am in life. i keep wanting to work on my story, but then why can't i seem to? i can't help but feel like there's a corrolation between having friends in real life to the kind of lifestyle i currently lead. like in middle school and high school, i guess i could be described as "high on life", and i wrote stories just well then. i don't think i was depressed then, or at least if i was depressed i eventually came out of it, and i can look back and honestly say, "oh yea i was depressed during that time". now i totally feel like i'm stuck in limbo. i don't even know waht the fuck depression is anymore. to be depressed means that i'm sadder than usual, but i've been like this so long that i can't tell when the depression started, and if it ever ended. for all i know, i've been depressed the last 5, 6 years. i wouldn't know because my emotions have been pretty consistent every since i graduated high school. has it been fucking that long? god, but i'm such a fag, a judgemental bitch that i could never get past the surface. i take one look at someone and i already know i'd never want to hang out or be friends with them. and i guess between the two, i'd rather choose loneliness than befriending someone i can't stand, but god, where are all the cool people in the world? i met all sorts of cool people in high school, and now that i'm out in the real world, i feel like they're all nonexistent now. i can't stand any of the fags i come in contact with.
it's probably just me. afterall, everyone else seems to get along just fine. sometimes i think about seeing a therapist. but i remember what that was like when i went to see a therapist in college. she asked me questions that i could easily ask myself and could not be any closer to finding an answer anyway. she just listened to me and never offered me any advice. i don't think i would be bothered by paying someone to listen to me, but i would be bothered if it never got anywhere, and i honestly don't think that seeing a therapist would help me get anywhere, and i don't care to try because i'm not that desperate to waste money like that. besides, the thought of driving there back and forth at least once a week bothers me. maybe that's also my problem. i don't try to make it better. i don't try to keep myself busy. when i'm at work and such, i just can't wait to get home so i could be left alone to do whatever i want. maybe that's all part of the problem. god i remember my psychiatrist said i should go out and participate in a club and such. god that was so awkward for me. why was it that everything came to me so much easier in grade school?
i can't help but wonder sometimes if this side of me - the not caring about anything is worse than suicidal me. i think when people are suicidal they still care enough to want to do something they just don't know what. i feel like i just don't care, that maybe i could even be suicidal, but i don't care enough to really find out if i am. well, i guess at least this means i won't be suicidal enough to care to pursue suicidal tendencies.
oh yea- side note. i'm quitting my once a week weekend job... i just have no idea what i'm going to say yet.