sanctify

im so tired of being depressed. its cliche. its so last week. everybodys doing it, dammit. im so tired of being bored with my life. i wish there was more to it than this. its so frustrating to know that life is ending one second at a time and you only get one shot at it... and to waste time this way... its appalling.

wish i were somewhere else. doing something else. i wish i were someone else.

like mr davis, all i want in life is to be happy.

maybe i should start my own religion. or, better yet, my own cult.

i read a book about this once. all new applicants had to denounce sex and give all their money to the “organisation” on new entry. ... it was so perfectly corrupt, we found out in the end, kiddies. with power, depravity and money at the evil evil core of it all. sadly, the only appealing thing about this story, was my twisted imagination...

i wonder if ive truly become bored with “life”. so, im looking for someone to liven things up for me. ... yup... any time now... some great exciting guy is gonna bust down my door... any second now... [yeah – and probably rob me blind. then leave. without the almost obligatory rape scene. figures]

i wonder if anyone in life truly is happy. or, is there a guinness world record for longest period of happiness? or is it more... abstract than that? who knows?

there are these creepy sounds outside the house. [solitary confinement is SO healthy for the imagination] anyway. i wonder if someone is trying to break in. why not just knock, you know? why bang and stuff? its so... last season.

there’s nothing on tv. besides, that crap will rot my brain.

i wish i were smarter. more elegant. more interesting. more... everything. but, im not. and im never gonna fit in. and im never gonna meet prince charming. and when i do he’l probly kick me in the face and then spit in my hair. [yuck.] who wants that anyway?

i wonder who i have to be to be happy. i blame the media for setting unrealistic standards for me. things i couldnt possibly achieve. i mean, ive come as close to what i think i need to be to be happy... without chemically or surgically altering myself.

im sure the right guy for me is out there somewhere... in his cell. bitchslapping some over-eager convict named Bubba for hogging the blankets again.

maybe not.

i envy the happy. rich. and busy.

i think the busy are most... shall we call it blessed? cause, you dont have time to bitch about being depro. scratch that, i think the luckiest ppl are those who actually enjoy what they do on a day to day basis.

problem is, what do i like to do? i like to sit on my ass and... i dunno. tv doesnt have much appeal for me. i get bored damn quickly. i hate being bored. so, what kinda job is different every other week? anything i do has about a 2 week excitement lifespan. max.

barring that, im not good enough to get any half-decent jobs anyway. not smart enough. or kewl enough. or qualified enough. or edgy, or pretty, or ugly... or anything, for that matter.

just ordinary.

[anybody see american beauty?]