Thursday, April 07, 2005

All this will have gone by now...

I've been in a funny mood for a few days. Clouds are descending. Fucking big, grey clouds, coming down over me, obscuring my vision, making me angry, sad, confused, stopping my creativity dead in its tracks. Yes, I'm wallowing in self pity. And, hell, I'm smart enough to know that I've got a lot going for me. A real lot. What if I had nothing and felt like this? But how can I feel like this when things are going right at the moment? Best hide the razor blades, the paracetomol and hold back on buying that shotgun...

An entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars.
Advertising has us chasing cars, megapixel cellphones and clothes. Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man... No purpose or place.
We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives.
We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact.
And we're very, very pissed off..."

It's today where you are. But, with Elizabeth Wurtzel and Chuck Palahniuk's help, I wrote this last night. Not everything you read is true.

"I start to feel like I can’t maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I don’t know. Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don’t know the answer, I know only that I can’t. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. I’ve had it. I am so tired..."

As Philip Larkin, the famous Nazi poet, once said..."Depression is to me as daffodils were to Wordsworth". Maybe it's time to play some jazz.

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