I've always had this strong desire to video blog but somehow that seems too personal and freeing for me. To actually say the thoughts in my mind aloud would be a mind fuck that I just don't think I'm ready for. Alas I have arrived at a conclusion to enter the world of blogging. Now all I need to worry about is if what I say makes any sense... Hmm, this could be difficult.
First ramble:
I have recently realized that I have lost all creative impulses and desires. When asked to paint a picture, i freeze. When my mind is in turmoil with too many thoughts I can never put them on to paper. I'll look back on a journal of sorts that I kept in high school (I say of sorts because I consists of song lyrics and doodles more than my own thoughts) and I can feel the pain I felt when writing in it. What confuses me though is that at this point in my life I know pain far greater than I did all those years ago and yet I can't seem to produce a single doodle or song lyric that gets my pain out of my body and on to a piece of paper. I partly blame the medication I take. While it makes me "happy" it also takes away creativity (among other things) I also blame this weird and messed up pride that I feel. Pride, probably not the right word actually. I shall elaborate.
I am living a life currently that is not the life I dream about or a life I willingly live. I am living a life laid out for me by my father, brother, mother, friends, non-friends, and any other person I come in contact with. I do nothing for myself anymore because by the time I finish attempting (pitifully) to please those around me, I'm stripped of every ounce of energy in my body. Is this what I really want for myself to come home, crash, and possibly cry for reasons beyond me? No, I say. No. I then find someone in m life who partly pleases me, who partly makes me happy when I'm around him, who makes me feel selfish and good about myself. And aside from those few and rare moments a week when I feel good with said person and good about myself I am agonizing over what I could do better. And that, right there, is just the point I am trying to make. (I think)
I never feel good enough anymore. I always feel like a bystander in my own life.
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