prestently listening to:jaba and mother are fighting

intentions to: i dunno. maybe i'll go to the gym

soberity level: stark arse sober

my mother just told me i need to get out more. that really disturbs me. what am i doing?

what is my reality? this stoopid site with my stoopid entries? my school? my work? what the fuck?

its just not right. i'm less unhappy than i've been in years. i'm doing really very well. so this creates indifference? everything loses meaning now? because i'm not hysterical, nothing matters to me?

i'm slipping into blah.

i don't want to become washed out and faded, lifeless and boring. is it that wretched drama my life thrived on what kept me interesting and youthful? was it in my misery that i found meaning and enthusiasim for life, even as it seemed to hang from a single thread more often than not?

"what is good without evil? what is light without dark? what are you without me? we are brothers eternal."

what am i without him? are we lovers eternal?

what is my life with those tears? atleast sometimes the tears came from laughter or joy. now my face is plain and smoothed over by inactivity and indifference. stone, cold, lifeless, without real pain, without real happiness. without heart ache and without love.

empty.

i can feel myself camouflage into the background. unseen, unnoticed. fading away.

all the excitment of the last few years kept me from my art work. maybe this dry spell of spirit will be good?

ehhh.