Now or never...

... it's time to take the plunge.

Steel yourself, Jack.

"I swear to God I won't stop until your shaking. And let me slide into you, please, baby."

Arg. So I'm sitting here, not achieving anything with my day. This is so pointless. I've got another three days and a bit of just sitting here listlessly doing fuck all and being angry with myself for that - and a whole multiplicity of other reasons. I'm developing a kind of angry schizophrenia, I swear: socially incapable, dominating, needy, pathetic, weak, enfeebled. It's really start to get on my nerves, and it's affecting my ability to... function on an everyday playing field. I'm finding it really hard to concentrate on anything for more than about five minutes, I'm getting bored by things which previously wouldn't have bored me, I'm missing people I shouldn't be missing, I'm feeling lonely even though I'm surrounded by people, I'm feeling useless because so many of my friends are in spirals and I can't do anything to help, my mum's blood pressure is 176/96, my dad has been ill for months, my friend's dad just got diagnosed with a malignant, inoperable brain tumour, my other friend is in a depressive state which it is impossible to help him out of, it's Valentine's day soon and I fucking hate Valentine's day, it's almost February and January has been shit, it's cold, I haven't properly slept in over a week, I'm tired, angry, and always thirsty. I'm smoking too much because any incentive to give up is slowly drifting away, I'm drinking more than I should because it seems to be the only thing which is making me feel... well, no, making me feel less than I do right now, I'm lying on my bed for hours at a time, in the dark, doing nothing - just sitting there tirelessly for hour after hour, I'm wearing hairspray for no reason whatsoever, I'm getting good news and not caring, I'm getting a house and not being excited, I'm almost finished with my exams and all I can think about is the fact that a week later it will be straight back into it, I'm dreading my week off because I'm not going to have anything to do and everyone's going to be busy with their boyfriend or girlfriend, and I'm just going to be sitting around on my elbows not doing anything because that's what seems to be going on right now. Earlier this week I went 2 1/2 days without eating, and that didn't bother me, I'm losing weight and that makes me more tired, I'm trying to do everything and not managing a single thing, I'm desperately trying to do some work but my diet, sleep, mood, mental state is ruining any possibility of completing even the simplest of revision tasks that I set myself. In short I'm falling apart, and I need a break, but I don't want a break because it'll just be me - alone - for a week, not doing anything, not seeing anyone because their timetables are so different to mine and they're all still at university and I'm just sitting at home twiddling my thumbs. Music is boring me, and TV has always bored me, my games aren't entertaining and the world looks bleak. It has just been grey cloud since it stopped snowing, I can't honestly remember the last time I saw some proper sun: just cloud and then rain, then white cloud, then rain, then grey cloud, then rain, then just grey cloud. It's just a chrome sky non-stop, each and every day. Perhaps I've got S.A.D. or something. Someone thinks I'm depressed, but I don't agree because when you have depression you don't want to talk about anything, and it's not that you don't eat but it's that you don't have an appetite; I've always got an appetite, it's just that the thought of food is making me nauseous. I'm on new medication for my insomnia and when I do fall asleep it gives me horrible dreams which I can't wake up from, they're almost lucid, but the alternative is just that I go three days without sleeping at all and then every waking moment is a living-nightmare and time gets blurred and I've got no idea where I am, what I'm suppose to be doing, and why I should be doing it. I guess nightmares are better than that? I really just wish there was someone here to hug me to sleep, and hold my hand, and let me know everything was going to be ok - because I'm really trying to be everyone's support, and everyone's shoulder, but once you get into that position it's kinda impossible to get out of it, and no one realises that you need a shoulder to lean on sometimes. It's just been 15 straight months of support-networking, and now when I have a couple of down weeks everyone just assumes I'm trying out a new form of misanthropy. No one really realises I haven't been happy in weeks, not really in months apart from briefly over Christmas. It's just been a difference between utterly devastated and at peace with my self-loathing. I think that's what it boils down to. That I just don't like who I am, or how I act, or how I speak, or what I say, or how I look, or how what I do effects other people. I wrote a letter to myself and ended up so angry with it that I tore it up and threw it in my memory box. Hopefully one day it might remind me why I'm such an intolerable douche. I also wrote another letter but I don't think I'm going to send this one because I don't think it would do anything to salvage the situation. I'm hating the world right now, I'm hating what it has done to people I care for, and even for people I don't know. Day after day it just seems to get more and more bleak until you can't separate the fantasy from the reality, or the real from the fictional; everything is just one mass of congealing agony and torment, and nothing anyone can do can stop it. Whilst thousands die, Apple releases their new product and the world goes on, and there's nothing that can be done. There's nothing that should be done. I'm just melancholy, and it gives the world that horrible greyish hue that seems to suck the life out of you until you just want to sit quietly on a chair and rock yourself to sleep, except you can't because sleep would be a temporary respite from the crushing monotony. Everything just looks the same, feels the same, is the same; there's no fucking happiness here and it's horrible. I know that no one who this matters to is going to read this, but I just wanted to say to them that I'm trying my best and I'm giving it my all, it's just that my all isn't very good. I wanted to apologise for not being a better friend, a better lover, a better son, or a better person. I'm sorry.

So now it's three hours later or something and I still haven't moved. The farthest I have ventured is outside to smoke my 85th cigarette of the hour. It's fucking cold outside. I just did a mini-catwalk for myself, trying on a bunch of clothes - this was my attempt at cheering myself up. It went horrendously wrong because I tried to combine a brown jumper with grey slacks. It was so obscene parts of me actually died. Which felt a little better, to be honest. I'm meant to be doing something with the housemates in a few hours. Drinking. Or something. It was my idea. It's probably an atrocious idea, because drinking when you feel like crap makes you feel more crap than you did before you started; it also makes you do all the things you shouldn't do: like tell your mum you hate that she prioritises work before you, or telling your brother he's a self-centred, egomaniacal prick, or telling that you guy you miss him horribly and that you wish you could be there and fix things, or calling that person you hate just to tell them you hate them, or putting your hand through the wall, or breaking your things just because they're there and so are you. And yet, because I feel that whole macabre, self-pitying, self-sacrificing, self-hating thing I'm going to get really drunk and really upset and really angry, and it'll still be better than the alternative which is taking 3x more than the prescribed dosage of my pills and passing out in a coma just so I don't have to wake up until tomorrow evening where I'll be one step closer to February. No, I'll opt for the lucid stupor, please. Thanks. Great. Bill in the post. I'm not suicidal or anything. I'd just love cryogenesis or something brilliant like that. Something that would just knock me the fuck out until all of this shit passes. I can't even blame puberty or hormones or any of that crap. I'm like an old man now, this is just because I'm fucking angry and fucking upset. Or "angad" as one of my friends suggested ('angry' + 'sad'). I thought it sounded more like a LoTR character that never quite made the final draft, which should have made me laugh - but didn't. I can't even amuse myself at the moment, and that fucking sucks. Someone asked me the other day why I'm happy to tell jokes I know no-one will laugh at, and I said it's because I don't tell them for other people; I tell them so that I am amused. Jewish guy calls his mother, his mother answers, he says "How are you?", she says "Terrible. I haven't eaten in 38 days", he says "Why haven't you eaten in 38 days!?", she replies "I didn't want my mouth full in case you should call." Normally would have me creased up because it's so stupid. Or that excellent one from Studio 60: Guy goes into a doctor's office with a duck on his head, doctor says, "what's the problem?", duck replies, "I got a guy on my ass". Ha. But not so much. More just vacant, glistening apathy. Reminds me of that Family Guy parody of The New York Times: "I'd be more apathetic, if I weren't so lethargic." That always cracks me up too. Someone needs to make me laugh. I need to go out with a friend and watch them fall over and smack their head on a lamppost or something. That would entertain me, surely? But I don't want to go outside because if I go outside then it'll provide me a brief respite from this torturing rubbish, and that would be wanton stupidity for a brain starved for attention. Even if the only attention is from itself, at least it can keep itself in the spotlight. It's like I've been talking dopamine inhibitors or something; has someone been sneaking Percocet into my fucking drinks or what? There's got to be a reason I'm almost constantly feeling like a big sack of crap. I had such a good day yesterday, and then I went and pissed it up the wall just by waking up this morning and realising that the week was still going, and I was still exactly where I was the day before, and I hadn't fixed anything, and nothing had improved, and no-one had invented a miracle cure, and no-one suddenly realised that they didn't need to rely on me; and the people I want to rely on me realised that they did want to rely on me. The person. Not people. No, I woke up and it was dark, and wet, and like 4.35 in the morning. I'm so bored of counting the shitty, poorly-plastered dimples on my artex ceiling. We can all see that it was artex - stop trying to hide who you are. My ceiling is like a mirror of my soul, man. I swear to you. Speaking of which. There's this cunty restaurant near to where I live that's so pretentious it has a projection running against the ceiling, which you watch by staring into the tabled mirror which sits beneath; surrounded by chez-lounges or something. I don't fucking know. It looked like an elitist paradise for people with more money than sense; like a hedonists materialist-palace by the lake of Ocarina. Totally vacuous and devoid of meaning, but pleasing on your fucking eyes. I need to discover some new music. I've not found anything reasonably worth listening to this week, and that's pissing me off even further. I hate not finding new music because I have that fucking compulsion to find everything out about everything which entertains me for more than eight minutes. Perhaps that's why I consistently sabotage relationships. Maybe it's because it's such a fucking rarity to find someone who is actually engaging enough to keep me interested for more than 8 minutes that I cling to the belief that they're not going to to like me for who I am so I change who I am to suit their needs, and then they realise that I'm actually not that person, and that I'm actually incredibly insecure and pathetic and then they get their epiphany that perhaps I'm not that great. If I didn't become so attached so easily. Not that I'm saying I fall in love easily, far from it - I'm saying that when I find someone I like, as a person, I find it hard to detach reality and my ideals. I have this mental image of fucking candy-drop romance and dances in the moonlight, and meals out which cost more than the fucking lunar-lander, and candle-light drives, and walks on the beach at 3am in the rain, and kissing underneath a spotlight rhododendron, and a whole host of other impossible wishes. That's what I see in my head, and then I explore it further and further until my head just explodes from the stupidity of it - then I crash back to reality and realise that life gets in the way of making people happy, and that life does its best to crush each and every thing you could ever hope to try to make any of these things come true. Just so you know, I don't really imagine the majority of these stupid scenarios; they were just meant as an analogy. I think I'm running out of things to complain about, and you can discount the bulk of them as things I've made up just because I'm enjoying writing things down and I don't want to stop typing. To be fucking honest, I'll be really impressed if anyone other than me managed to get this far because I haven't put a paragraph in for the last like 2,000 words or something awful. It's just going to look like someone munched a dictionary and then spewed it up all over your screen. Not even a good dictionary. That's something else as well. My diction is degenerating. It's getting really amateurish. The thing I clung to has become this hazy kind of mist which I can't grasp when I go for it. I'm struggling with basic words, and even more basic concepts. Maybe that's my underlying problem. Though I sincerely doubt that. In fact, it's not. Why did I even say that? I have absolutely no idea why I said that. I think I need to do some journalism. I need to get out there and get amongst the people and talk to them and see what they're feeling about some stuff; I need some interaction with strangers; I want to dance anonymously, and play with no regrets, and speak like I've only got a day to live, and do things I've not done before, and go places I've never been, and talk to people I'd never normally talk to, and get a cat, and raise a child, and put the fucking heating on 'cause it's really shitting cold in this fucking house, oh yeah and I'd like to go and live in my new house with the girl who looks after me when I'm feeling like this - the one who the last time I crashed saved me from doing anything stupid. She's great. I seriously don't know what I'd do without her. Not that I'm dependant, or that it's a one-way street; we just have an adult relationship where we can rely upon each other at any time, for any thing, and there is mutual respect and adoration for the other person. I love her to pieces, and she's important. Very important. I wonder if she realises just how important she is. When I went for a walk with her the other week she spoke when I wanted her to, and she was silent when I wanted her to; she bought me a drink when I was thirsty, and made me eat. I know it sounds pathetic but I didn't ask her to do any of this, and she just kind of... knew. I'm not really sure how. She must be much better at reading people than I am, or perhaps I just have the most expressive face which fails to hide anything. It's probably that because people always seem to know what I'm thinking. I don't care to mince words, so why the fuck should I bother hiding my emotions? Especially if you just look angry when you're actually upset, that way no one bothers doing the whole trite sympathy rubbish which means nothing. Wow, I'm really quite enjoying this now. I just like... opened my Spotify and suddenly felt a bit better. For no reason whatsoever. Perhaps there's not really anything wrong and my brain just thinks there is. I think I have a hormonal imbalance, that would explain the fucking health problems and the mental fluctuations as well. If that were to be... say... fixed, then perhaps I wouldn't be acting like a cunting manic-depressant. Who feels happier just because they've clicked on something? Some kind of cunt. No, I'm sure this is fleeting. Awk, who knows. And don't be all like 'healthy mind', or 'tidy house', or 'Sheep among wolves' or any other kind of stupid phrase which doesn't make any sense. Reminds me of an Eddie Izzard sketch where he says "Let bygones be bygones... Wait. Why are they call bygones? Oh look, there's a thing that's just... well, oh, wait, I see, it's a thing that's gone by isn't it? Duh!" Haha. Man I miss my Eddie Izzard collector's edition boxset of DVD's. I should bring that back to UoP with me. It has been too long. I've only got a handful of things to watch with me here, and they're all things I've seen a hundred-million times. The only thing I think I can bear to watch this evening will be one of the Die Hard's because my mind can just wander off somewhere else, but my whatever-brain-zone-that-likes-shit-like-this will be kept appeased for a few hours. Then it's time to load up on suppressants and drift off into a hazy coma. That should be nice.

Good grief I'm depressingly obsessed with this song. Judge me if you want, but we all have guilty pleasures. Also, someone thank God for me for giving us Promethazine Hydrochloride. All I need now is some Oxycontin.