Sunday, April 24, 2005 // 10:47 PM

and kenneth. i cant think of a single thing to say to you any more. i dont know, i dont know. i think sam is/was a lot nicer to you than i ever was. i cant even remember how it used to be like, talking to you. im sorry, how do i explain my having changed? i am an unlikely misanthropist but a misanthropist all the same, and you. you very much qualify as part of a general people.

i cant remember the last time i had a natural conversation. if online can count, then it would probably have been with kevin. even some times when i feel like i'm getting some where in a conversation, it always takes a certain kind of effort, a certain conscious something. with kevin i can talk rubbish, but it is not rubbish in the sense of how usual people talk rubbish, it is just. every little thing under the sun, the most effortless thing in the world.

you know. i want to go all silent on you but i know how people would react. now i feel like i have some responsibility to people, and that does not disturb me as much as i thought it would have. but i, i have become tired of my own boisterousness, i have run out of comments that i would care to make.

you know, i think i've managed to stop myself thinking. we said things about him today, and it made me think about how once upon a time everyone used to say that i was so sad. yes i have believed that there is an inverse relationship, but no in a million years i would never have imagined how natural not-thinking has come to me. of late. i dont know, am i even jinxing things to say it? i am not a moody person, or rather, it is not just a moodiness about me (i suppose i was pretty sullen in sec 3 and 4), but my sadness was of a violent kind. as is, i suppose, everything about me. i dont know, the dull weight of things is one of the most unbearable that i can think of. it was never a weight for me, or rather, it was never a shroud, or rather. it was never a slight discomfort. i dont know, maybe i let my sadness consume me or maybe my melancholy became the very centre around which things revolve, so that i failed to see anything outside my self. i dont know. but i suppose all things can be some kind of explained away.

i know i'm only saying this now, but. it's a general kind of thing. because i remember being so perpetually miserable, it makes me wonder whether he is like that, are you, are you really? are you just an older version of me, the me that i once was before i made the decision to be happy at all costs. at all costs. i cant go back on that now, or i think the change has been real. this is me not having to try to be un-fatalistic, and. i mind the changes that have taken place a lot less than i thought i would have.

i am trying to remember what i was like before i met you. im not going to deny that you affected me a lot, the way a lot of half-strangers do, really. i read back entries and i like the way i used to blog a lot more than i like my present style. this is straightforward but there is a whimsicality to my yesterdays that i have lost. randomness with something throbbing underneath, i am less of an absurdist now (by virtue of sheer unavoidable contact with the rest of the world). i wonder too who my audience is now, because people have been telling me how my blog is confusing. i'm sorry (perfunctorily), i am a very confused person. today i said to daryl that i won't deny being a messed up. but blogging, this is the only thing i know how to do, i am sticking my hands into my past self and groping around for something to tell me what i am. neither am i expecting a faithful viewership, just because i write so darn much and so darn long, i come so close as to even saying i appreciate that i dont think any one is going to bother to read every single word i write. that way i have the option of hiding honesty in the middle of a long chunk of sentences, and you will never know the better.

what the me of before foresaw of the future:
gas guzzling. i never want to be tired of living, but dont you know you feel it coming. it's time for a solid nap, or chemical happiness, a lightheaded pretence.

im sad, because it seems like what has jaded you has sucked out your soul for necessity and left you functional and quietly brewing hysteria. im scared, because it seems to me like a humongous force, a tidal wave, with me in the way and no refuge in sight.

while talking to daryl i punctuated my sentences with the title of a morrissey song, the way i do when i blog, some of the stuff the ends up in italics. it is strange to use a cultural reference in a face to face setting, because i feel the burning need to introduce it, credit it to its rightful owner.

and politics, politics of any kind, they sicken me, for how i am paralysed by being able to see both sides to an issue. why can't people just... stop being stupid, what does your stand matter anyway? this is why i dont believe in believing any more, certainly of late i have more often denounced popular viewpoint than said anything of my own. i resent the notion that i have to accept this, that it will one day become an unavoidable part of my life, people sitting around talking about people. nothing could possibly matter or interest me less.

what i liked too, of a letter to myself: sunday, october 24th, 2004.
hello neurotic. sometimes you need to stop yourself in your tracks and think carefully about the things that you have already decided to feel. do you know what i am talking about? yours is a heart bleating like a sheep, begging to be broken.

and i did pa today! actually doing the settings, not just the mute-and-un-mute-ting. daryl said there was a whole-ness to the sound today which is supposed to mean that i did a good job which is happiness for me, even though it is only me adjusting the dials when terence tells me to. there were so many changes that i didnt dare to make, i cant wait to play around with this thing. linus says it is the pa who can make or break the overall sound of the worship, muahhahaahahaha. poooowwweerrrr!

and who the heck is gobetrov?