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07 may 2000
----- I shouldn't be awake. I shouldn't be thinking. And yet here I am, awake and thinking. Thoughts turned inward, self-critical, measuring myself against the rest of the world and coming up far short of the mark. Knowing that if I were to disappear right now, the world wouldn't miss me. Inconsequential, I feel almost impotent, powerless to catalyze change within, and clueless as to what that change might need to be. I really should sleep. I need to be back in Manhattan in six hours, at my job, my "living" -- why does it all seem so pointless right now? Staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out how my entire life has led up to this moment, reclining on a futon in a strange house in northern NJ, staring off into space, trying to write what I'm feeling ... and failing ... Part of my mind doesn't want to care. I don't like that part of my mind. I dunno, have I managed to become so self-centered that I've shut myself off from any chance of a meaningful relationship with another human being? Am I that strange, that unapproachable? Am I not making enough of an effort to be normal? Effort. Normal. Some would say "just be yourself," as if it's something I need to consciously do. If I'm not being myself naturally, who am I being? What does "being myself" mean? Does it require effort? Is it normal? Is anyone themselves? Weirdness. Thoughts in a strange bed in a different time zone. I'd really like to talk to someone right now. Where is my friend when I need you most? Gone away. Holy shit this entry is pathetic. I'm going to sleep now. 08 may 1999: didn't write : 08 may 1998: didn't write :
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