Even if

I don't know what to do with myself. I don't know where to go either. These past few years feel a lot like a car wreck you see on TV in slow motion and you can analyze every detail of what's going on but you can't stop it or avoid it. You can only see it happening. You have no influence on any of it because it's like it already happened but you relive it every day like a nightmare... a waking nightmare. That's what the past few years have felt like. And now that I am going in a different direction I'm a bit scared that it's not actually a different direction but a whole new nightmare taking hold. I don't want to let the panic seep in but it's sort of unavoidable. I can't help but think of all the things that could go wrong. Typical me - thinking of what could go wrong and never thinking of what could be awesome. Even if awesome hit me in the face I'm still thinking of what could go wrong next. Even if I'm content I still think of a thousand ways I could easily slip and fall into misery. Even if people tell me I'm doing okay I'm still thinking I'm useless. Even when I think that things might turn around I'm still thinking that it's bullshit, that things will never really work out for me in the end. Why the fuck am I so annoyingly defeatist? Why can't I just carpe diem like most people and suck all the marrow out of life?

My life has been pretty uneventful lately. I go to work, I get off work, I come home. Pretty straightforward and boring. I'm used to boring. I enjoy boring. There was a time that boring was just boring. But now, boring is comfortable and safe. Boring is a step closer to perfection. I'm so perfectly boring I even spaced out for a few moments thinking about all kinds of different ways to spend a boring afternoon. I know you're wondering if I feel lonely... I do. I won't deny it. But it's better to be alone than with the wrong person. So I steer clear of those now and in the future I need to be absolutely sure that the other person is actually a right person and not a complete fucking psycho. As I think this - in a sort of inner monologue style - I'm listening to Veruca Salt looking out my window. So many flickering distant lights... I wonder how many other people are having similar inner monologues and how many are heartbroken. I wonder how many are listening to music, like I am, and reflecting on such happenings of their daily life. I wonder how many are looking out their window wondering the same as I am. I wonder how many are looking for that one true love that will set them on fire and consume them (but in a good way). The other day I was driving home from work and thinking about just that... how before love was urgent, a sort of fire that had to be put out. And I don't think that was actually love. It was a sort of itch that needed scratching. So I guess it's safe to say that it was heated passion binded by lust. Love isn't fleeting... it grows stronger each day. I assume it does. I'm not really sure what it's all about. I mean... so many writers have tried to nail that one down and we still have no idea how to describe it. Mostly because I think that it hits people in different ways... maybe it has something to do with the soul. There aren't two souls alike. There might be kindred souls or soulmates. People that complete each other like the two halves that walk the earth looking for each other - that sort of thing. And those might walk by each other down the street and have some sort of magnetic connection or spark. But not act on it... then what? Even if they do have that spark or whatever they just walked on because... well... life. Life happens way too fast. People are always way too caught up with... I don't even know. All the crap they deal with everyday. They don't stop to appreciate what's going on around them. And that's kind of sad. But even if I stop to watch life happening around me I feel utterly alone. Because it's like I'm on pause in a sea of blurred faces fast forwarding around me.