I hope it gave you plenty of time to read and think about my previous entry. Because it's important. Please excuse my typos as this diary is a spontaneous thought blog and not something I'm sending off for publishing anytime soon.

I'm not happy. 8 million factors in my life that I try to ignore and continue pluggin' along are slowly kiling me. I don't like myself, I don't like where I live and I definitely don't like anyone in it. (including myself). And for those of you reading who are saying, "You don't like me?!?!" get the fuck over yourself and realize this is my self depricating emotive diary and it's not all about YOU YOU YOU!!!

Jesus.

Now that they're gone, let's get back to the point shall we? It seems I can't get anything finished. I take on Herculean tasks for myself and pile em' on, yet when it comes to completing them, I fizzle. I remember a grade-school teacher putting that on my report card once.

Has difficulty completing tasks.

I'd like to think it's just stupidity and sheer laziness, but that would be self defeating. So I'll take another stab at it. I don't have an adequate support team. Now this is not the fault of the people I have around me, for I am already aware that they do not share the same futuristic ideals that I have gleaned form my time on this planet. I'm a bad motivator and an even worse Xinsert word hereX. I'm one of those people who's too concerned that when I do split up the job so that others can help me, they'll just mess it up and I'll wind up doing it over. Or that it just won't be done as well.

What's worse is that I feel like I have no peers down here. No one who is driven to accomplish the same things, who understands my plights or desires. Or who will come to me with something (an idea, a finished project) that creatively stimulates me. I'm just stuck in a box of my own making and trying to make the best of it with what I have.

Now I'd like to take this time to clarify what I've been saying. (just so that I can prove what a whiney-boy I am) I don't have it so bad. I have a girlfriend a great friend and roommate and several music related projects including an upcoming release and a radio show in my town. And as most of you know, I am incapable of trying to relate anything to anyone without the use of similies and metaphors, so here goes...

Let's compare my current situation to a walk to downtown (anywhere). The weather is not bad, and the incline of the road, while always uphill, is not too steep.

I've walked this road for awhile now and still have not made it to the downtown area. I can see it on the horion but it always seems to stay just out of reach. The people I pass on the way seem to be headed in a similar yet different direction (near but not downtown). Those who ahve a car, don't want to give me a lift.

Maybe it's because I'm outta shape, or maybe it's because I wore the wrong clothes or I'm carrying this God forsaken backpack of junk (that I need), but I'm getting tired of walking this road. It's too late to turn around and get my car (which doesn't work) or pay off my debts (which keep me from fixing my car). And sometimes I wonder if I'm even headed down the right road anymore. A part of me is screaming to drop my backpack and shed my clothes and go running naked back to anywhere... anywhere!!!!

Anywhere but here.

I know this makes no sense, but I'm afraid that those who say they like me only say so because I say I like them. that it's all a very delicate infostructure of noontime greeting facades. The very instant I can't do something for them or as soon as I miss one of my mid-afternoon "Hello, how are you's" is the very moment they declare me the enemy and do their best to spite me. As if I'm the enemy they've kept so close for all this time just to keep tabs on me. And me, being so blind and tired and preoccupied with my goals has overlooked it all and confused who my real friends are.

It wouldn't be the first time. I've been used abused and contused (no not confused... contused) before. Ultimately we can blame no-one in this life. If free will is correct, we all choose our path, and those that burn us are only those who we allow to burn us.

Is it no coincidence that the majority of rapes and murders are committed by people we know and trust? We allowed them into our lives. It is our fault. (most psycologists right now would say that I'm being too hard on myself and on those who chose to be raped by their babysitter)

Ok, maybe I'm full of shit. I never denied that. I would not be the first person to tell myself such. but I can say this with all truth and honesty.

I am not happy.

And I have to do something about it.

I'm just afraid of finding out what it is I have to do to become happy.