I'm so freakin' mad at myself. I'm like the worst taoist ever. I don't relax (ever). I don't take things as they come (when it really counts). I don't live life in the moment (absolutely never happens). I don't love life. I don't breath in every breath with joy. I don't live like a blade of grass in the wind. I spent all freakin' weekend working on my new website (honestly 8 AM to 11 PM four days in a row), instead of out there enjoying the beautiful day like I should have been. I hate this. I'm living everything but now. I wish I could go back and change everything, and I am making up rediculous fantasies for the future.
It turns out I din't really change. I never do, really. I say I do, and I act all high and mighty for a couple days, but then I'm right back to the stupid, selfish, obnoxious, unhygienic nerd that is Shauvon McGill (spelled correctly). I am not, nor will I ever be truly happy. I will never run out of things to want. I read that ATI is coming out with a product to compete with nVidia's SLI technology. I'm going to have to get me one of those babies.
The fact of the matter is that I'm not attractive, I'm not healthy, and I'm not very fun when you get right down to it. That's the truth, told by the only person who really knows me more than anyone else. Oh, no, you're just being hard on yourself! I hear everyone saying. It's not true. as much as people can tell me how great I am, I still know the truth, and that is what I have to live with. I hate that people are starting to tell me that I'm a good person, because this whole facad that I put up is all a lie. I feel like it is, anyway. I don't do anything by nature. I'm never just "myself." blah blah blah blah . . . nobody's really paying any attention anyway, and my wrists are tired.
Screwed up Carpal Tunnels at age 19.
Scott came by today. He told me far more than I wanted to know about episode 3. I wanted to ignore it and just take the movie for what it is, but I can tell that it will be a dissappointment. Even for me, it's going to be a dissappointment.
Whenever I get an opinion for myself, it always ends up being wrong.
I had my second day in the office today. I work for my Dad, if anyone cares. I just do odd jobs for him. He's an architect, a partner at a small firm in Noblesville. They pride themselves on being the best firm in Noblesville (there are a suprising ammount of architects in the rather small city). I don't know what they did without me, because I've been here two days and I've already fixed a whole bunch of problems. I never feel like I work hard enough there. I'm always slacking off, just trying to make that clock hit 5 any way I can. My dad always tells me that I'm the best thing since the 't' square (not his words). He always tells me how helpful I've been and everything. I can't help but think that it's just a dad throwing endless praise at his only son, trying to make him pull himself out of the hole he's dug for himself.
My mom's incubating chicken eggs again. They started hatching today. A baby chicken is one of the smallest, most helpless creatures in the entire world. I can't help but relate to and envy them.
I got my grades. Three C's and two B's. My GPA actually went down from a 2.6. It's now 2.4, and although I tell everyone that I don't care as long as I pass, it's all lies. I hate myself for doing this. I hate myself for sleeping in instead of going to class. I hate myself for not paying attention to important details. I hate myself for not doing really easy things that would have raised my grade considerably. I feel so terrible every single time I even think negative things toward Scott. I'm "doin' fine" with my lousy 2.4, and Scott's annoyed that his grade dropped to a 3.9. My "competition" Cameron Marston got close to a 4.0, too (that's four - oh as well, not 402). I hate how much of a terrible student I am.
I scared the crap out of Scott's mom the other day when I went to visit in my Vader costume. That makes me smile. That's also kinda' depressing. That's what I've become? I go around visiting my friends in a $700 costume from a science fiction movie.
I will never fine the love that I'm so desperately searching for. I always try to pick the damn apples before they're ripe. I don't know if that's the right analogy, but I'm tired and I'm sick of my pretentious "style" of writing, which is just coming up with the first cheesy metaphore that pops into my head.
I ate lunch at my spot today. It's a place down on the white river just down the road and through a private property from the office I work at. It's so peaceful there, so relaxing, but all I could think about was how much I wished that somebody, anybody, was there with me. All I did was just make up conversations I would have with them if they were there. That's all I ever do. Just next to my spot is this beautiful grass field, with light glinting off of the grass like something so much more valuable than gold. I wanted to just run off into that field, past the "no tresspassing" sign, past the fence, past the line of trees on the far side. I wanted to feel the grass under my feet, feel the world leave me as I left it behind.
I might just run off into that field tomorrow. I might just run off and never come back.
Jesus Christ, that's depressing.
I'm going to get some sleep and try to make sense of all this. Don't worry, I'm not running away (I think).