Some thoughts to begin a new year upon :S

I'm beginning to think that my pursuits have become a lost cause. Whether this be my current loneliness speaking or the cold drugs, I'm not quite sure, but I'm beginning to feel it slipping from my fingertips. Maybe I'm becoming sick of the chase, the constant...turmoil, for lack of a better word, that I put myself through. The other night I sat there and wondered, yet again, if my heart was really in it. Now, this isn't a question of whether I like him or not, because I do, it's the question of whether I'm ready. I feel like I keep lying to myself when I say I'm ready to do it and take the next step, and then I don't. It scares me that even when I find clarity, and find something in my life that brings me complete and utter happiness, I feel like running. It's sad that I feel so unworthy of something so beautiful because of what someone drilled into my head long ago. I think that's the first honest thing I've told myself in a long time...

Well, it's the night of resolutions for the upcoming year and I know for one, I shall be making quite a few because I want to get out of this stinking rut once and for all. Happy New Years ;)

Words of wisdom via Mr. Alexandar 'Sasha' Vukelich...

What you're doing is clubbing a baby seal. The baby seal is innocent and doesn't know what's happening. It just wants to play...then

WHAM!

My dear, allergy attacks kill me...

Incessant sneezing...what could be worse? Maybe trying to write while my head is spinning...

It's taken me 20 minutes to get this far...I give up!

I'll write tomorrow, lol.

Yet another journal...

A new beginning...

In my infinite search for constant change...and to cure my consistent boredom... I created a new journal in the hopes of discovering something new about myself. My other journal became a means to finding out what my friends and some of my so-called friends were doing with their lives, or not. No offence, but I would rather not read about your latest night out anymore, or what you received for your birthday, at least, the majority of the time. My escape from reality comes threefold - music, the visual arts and the written word. And when my inspiration is lacking in one, I feel slightly incomplete. Maybe this journal will act as a means to produce something significant in my life, something of philosophical or theological context, which inspires me to think rather than to sit on my butt staring blankly at the shallowness humanity has become.

Or maybe I'm just looking to become deep...

How strange that seems...