Okay, so something is off. I’m sitting here and I should be frenetically working or enthusiastic as hell or at least scared or lonely or whatever, but instead I’m blank. I’m blank and slightly down and have the deep sense somewhere underneath the floorboards that I’m wasting time, but I can’t quite see my way through the spider webs to do anything about it.
No doubt this is where the doc prescribes prozac or ritalin or something, except that there is no doc and really drugs shouldn’t be enough anyway, I mean there should generally be something underlying your life, shouldn’t there?
I’m entering my third decade of about six or seven. I’m about to go back to school but I’m not quite sure why, except that it’s the best idea I’ve had so far in a very large universe of rather desperately flat ideas.
I don’t feel empty or sad so much as absolutely spiritually and inspirationally bankrupt, like there really is a soul train only I took it to the mall instead of to Africa, and now there’s nothing left to do but watch Jake & the Fat Man and eat veggie burgers out of cardboard boxes.
All of this despite my determination not to buy in & sell out.
Everyone’s pissed off at me or at least frustrated and bored with me, and really I just don’t care.
I feel like a cynical American.
I feel like I’ve never seen anything that wasn’t a pose.
I feel like nobody’s qualified.
“Qualified for what?”
I don’t know. F—. Qualified for anything.