4 posts tagged “stream-of-consciousness”

I'm going to apologize in advance here for two...no, three things. First off, I apologize that this document probably will not be proofread for any sort of grammatical or spelling errors. I'm not even going to give it a once-over to make sure it flows; that alone should give you an idea of how crunched, wiped, and generally fucked I am. Second off, I apologize for not making sure that this document is at all cohesive. I've been fluctuating with writing recently; generally, I think that it's total crap, whereas everyone else reading it thinks it's genius in whatever field I try to write. So I don't know which way this is going to go, although I know I'll think it crap. Thirdly and finally, I would like to apologize in advance for something. You see, every year, I try and do a New Year's post; say how my year's been, how I want next year to be, and then point some highlights and downfalls of the year both from a personal perspective and a global one. It's a really fun affair, and even thinking about it is starting to make me feel a little bit happier. The apology comes in when I have to break the news that I'm not sure whether or not I'll be able to make this post this year (I guess the apology has come in now...).

Yeah, I really have no idea how my New Year's will be, so I really can't guarantee a post for that period of time, or even a real post anytime relatively soon. The reason is simple: I am in a miserable slump right now, and it's not only affecting my writing. It's effecting my entire lifestyle and unrelentingly making me pathetic. I know I said the same thing about my the writing slump I had back in late October/early November (Jeez, was that already two months ago? It feels like a day, literally), but this isn't the same thing at all. For example, I know when, where and why this "block started (although I'm probably not going to delve too much into that, it being a quite private matter), and I can tell how badly it is affecting everything I can do. I see no resolution to this bout of depression, and I am becoming increasingly convinced that depression is what it is. It really feels like genuine, chemical imbalanced, give-me-some-fucking-medication, depression to me, which is a depressing thing in itself. I'll get into the particulars very soon, but first, I want to outline some of the initiating factors and symptoms.

Let's first start out with the symptoms I'm feeling...I'm sure you can already tell right now that this is going to be a very quaint and uplifting post to read. I feel generally listless, nothing is fun-inducing for me anymore. I am consistently tired, even when I get 8-10 hours of sleep a night. It is more of a mental exhaustion, but it effects my physical being as well, which is unfortunate. Right now it's only 11:30, but I feel as if it's 3:30 and I've been up for 24 hours straight. I also get dizzy spells (although I haven't fainted yet), I tire easily, have no appetite even though I'm eating constantly, and am getting sick in other ways. Since I've gotten home, I've been fighting something that seems to be an absurd combination of tonsillitis, strep throat, and mono, which is not a fun experience, although the worst seems to be over. The physical exertion that my body is experiencing over doing absolutely nothing is absurd, ridiculous, and makes me want to scream at myself. I've come to the conclusion that this has to have stemmed from a mental tiredness over college, or friends, or life...whichever. I mean, there's no other excuse for me being so drained when I'm not supposed to be physically tired. I'm mentally tired, which is even worse.

I'm also experiencing a dreadful loss of emotion right now. I feel really detached from everything, which is disturbing to me mentally, even though I'm not emoting that disturbed state. I was discussing my general scenario with my friend Melissa last night, and I remarked that it feels as if I am "acting impartial...as if I am physically acting out my life, but I am not actually seeing it happen, and mentally, I'm an impartial observer. Like...I'm seeing myself act from a 3rd-person perspective, so I'm not emotionally attached to myself anymore." Yes, that is a direct quote, because that's exactly what I said, and it's exactly how I feel. It's a scary feeling, and I mentally register it, but I have no fucking clue what to do from there. I don't think I could cry about it if I tried, and I don't feel angry fear which would make me want to break something (or someone). It's just this paralyzing, crippling fear which leads me to type these reports to nobody in particular with a strange look of detachment on my face.

I think that right now, I am completely and totally mentally detached.

And no, I haven't been drinking, smoking, snorting, and/or dropping. Sorry to ruin all the hopes and dreams of everyone who wants nothing more than to see me in a drug-induced coma. The story around that is actually very interesting: I know that this has nothing to do with substances because I just haven't done them. I haven't done any drugs since I got home last Thursday night, and I drank Thursday night, but not even that much. I haven't gotten drunk at all this month, it's just been a casual drink or two, and I haven't gotten high or whatever either. So it's not drugs. And alcohol has ceased to be a pleasing experience for me. It's literally a struggle to make it through one beer, which gets me absolutely nowhere in terms of shit-faced-ness. I'm literally beginning to be disgusted just by the taste of it, which is weird and horrible.

But booze isn't the only thing that's lost its meaning. I've stopped finding playing piano, D&D, video games, and even something as simple as hanging out with friends any fun. It's just not enjoying for me anymore. I'm just writing my script and sulking, pretty much. I honestly don't know what to do about this...as if writing about it would magically make everything go away.

I'm just shit out of luck, aren't I?

-blake

Okay, I'm well aware in advance that this post is going to be incredibly incoherent and it's probably going to bear strong resemblance to my last stream-of-consciousness-esque rant, but that's what you get when you're running on such a weird sleep schedule as I am. Don't worry, I'm not missing any sleep, it's just not all in the right places, so I feel incredibly tired at as early as 8 PM...Hopefully my full 8 hours tonight will right any wrongs that have accumulated in the last...fuck, has it been 4 days? 4 days. And hopefully my post full of ranting tonight will right any wrongs that have accumulated in my mind recently. It probably won't, but at least it'll make me feel better temporarily, as these posts often do. I haven't been writing a lot, and I've been songwriting/playing piano even less, but at least I know right now that it's not because of some absurd writer's block. It's because I have no time, a rather new development in the sense that it's always been a problem, but it hasn't been the only problem I've faced for a long, long while. But I'll get to that in due time. My weekend is far more interesting than my petty little personal problems. So without further ado, I will give to you

The Absolutely HorriblAmazing Thanksgiving Break of 2007!!! - Micro Edition Because I really don't think I'll be able to write much in this state.

Wednesday- So Wednesday I was supposed to leave for home at 9:00, bringing two of my dorm-mates to Poughkeepsie so they could catch their respective trains by 11:30 at latest. Of course, this doesn't happen; not even close. My parents don't end up getting here until 10:45, at which point we pack it up and book it for Poughkeepsie (40 minutes away, eep!). Of course, we don't have very good directions, so that got us even later than we were originally going to be. Somehow (miraculously), we got there by 11:36, my dad quietly seething at me for other people getting bad directions, and we run in. Unfortunately, the 11:30 train has already left (an American train...ON TIME? ON A HOLIDAY??? Of all the times...), but there was a 12:30 train, which the website didn't state. So they take that train and can still get to their respective changeovers because apparently everywhere BUT Poughkeepsie is being hit by massive Thanksgiving delays. So I get back into the car, get berated by my father, and I go home wondering why I decided to come in the first place.

Oh right, I have an Eagle Board of Review Wednesday night. That's why I decided to come home. So I come home, set my stuff down, and immediately run out to get my Eagle Scout board of review. ZOMGZ! I'll withhold the outcome until the end of this paragraph, you know, to make you curious and all. So I go to the board of review in a technically non-Class A uniform (Class A is the full deal, you need it to advance. I forgot a belt, which was concealed by the pair of pants I was wearing, thank goodness), with pink hair, painted fingernails and shaved limbs. I also fuck up really badly on a few questions, the most prominent one being this:

Q: "So, why do you want to be an Eagle Scout?" <--- An extremely important and relevant question...

A: "Um...I dunno. I don't really." <---An IDIOTIC answer, followed up by: "Well, no I mean I do want it, but I feel that I've done all the work--gotten all the merit badges and whatnot-- and I've furthered myself and my church by doing this project, so even if I don't get Eagle, I'll still feel that I've earned it." <--An equally idiotic justification.

Can you believe that I actually said this to the Eagle Board? I can't. But I go through the hour-and-a-half interview, leave the room for a bit while they debate, get pulled back into the room, and lo and behold...

I'm an Eagle Scout. Hell yeah!!!

But my night didn't end there; fuck no, not today! [/Fear and Loathing] From there, I went to Melissa's house (MK of Title of Radio Show fame) and met up with a bunch of friends that I'd end up hanging around with for a large part of the weekend. We walked around the development, went to Quick Chek and got snacks, then watched Snatch with my brand new computer's S-Cable! Whoever invented something thats sole purpose is pretty much to enable people to show stolen movies on a big-screen TV is my hero. The S-Video Cable is a miraculous invention, and Snatch is an amazing movie.

After those festivities (oh, I also cooked Tofu. Forgot about that part...), I went home and crashed at the bright and early hour of 2:30 AM. It was beautiful.
Day 1 Sleep--2:30 AM - 10:30 AM. 8 Hours

That's all I'm going to write tonight. I'm delusionally tired for reasons I'll divulge as the rest of this comes to fruition.

ohmygodineedsleep...

[Update 1 of Many]
So it's Monday. I'm not entirely rested, but I have caffeine in me, so that'll probably do the trick for a little bit. In the 15 minutes I have, I'm going to attempt to continue this little recap of mine, in order to better explain my current situation.

Thursday- Thursday was that one day...the day where you eat a lot of stuff, and a bunch of Native Americans saved the early settlers from dying one winter...umm, shit, it's the day before Black Friday. Yeah, you know the day I'm trying to talk about, I just keep forgetting its name. Whatever, it'll come to me eventually. So I had to spend the day with my family because, well, it was just the right thing to do. My day was incredibly uneventful: I played video games, I worked on homework a little bit, I wrote a little bit. Of course, nothing really productive was done...I couldn't have read more than 30 pages, and I doubt I wrote more than half a page. The larger portion of the day was binging myself on some Mass Effect.

For those of you not in-the-know about video games, Mass Effect is from the same people that made Knights of the Old Republic, BioWare. And, in the style of KotOR, it's incredibly open-ended. After the prologue, you start off with about 5 possible quests, and probably 5 different ways to accomplish each quest. Depending on how you go about these quests, you get more XP, different alignment shifts (Paragon vs. Rebel), different party members, or different powers/weapons. Put that on top of a giant solar system to explore (something like 50 randomly generated planets), tons of side quests, and nearly infinite character options, and you've got a game that will probably take me months to complete. My character, named Z'Omgz Shepard, is an Earth-Born human who is a ruthless marine that will do anything to get the job done. When the majority of his team died on a dangerous mission, he became rather jaded, and focuses only on the completion of his mission. He is fully trained in weapons, and also has a limited knowledge of Biotics (a combination of Magic and Force Powers). Character creation alone took me about half an hour. It's a mad fun game, and I'd even say that it's almost worth buying a 360 just to play it. Well, it and Rock Band, but that's a completely different story.

So I played Mass Effect, then had the large dinner gala with my family, and at this point, I realized something that took me three-and-a-half months to recognize: the only reason I really can't stand coming back to New Jersey is my dysfunctional family (Rephrasal: At the time, I thought this...). I just feel that when I come home from Bard, I'm taking a step back in my life, going back to a place that I was at, but don't want to be at ever again. My friends are cool (I thought), and Hackettstown isn't that bad of a place. It's my home that bothers me. Take the discussion at dinner, for example: we either talked strictly about me and my experiences at college/my new success as Eagle Scout or we talked about something I had no idea about, such as my brother's marching band career. The two sets of conversations were mutually exclusive; only one person was involved at a time...it was totally ridiculous. I couldn't relate to half the things that were said, so I couldn't respond, and I imagine that my brother had the same feeling the other half of the time. Another interesting topic of conversation during dinner was about thank-you notes. My grandmother inquired about what I was doing for thank-yous since my Eagle Project had finally reached completion. I explained to her that I'd sent hand-written thank you notes to the people who generously donated to my project, and that was it. She then asked didn't I want to thank my Scoutmaster or my Eagle Adviser? I said that no, I didn't, because there was no precedent for it, and I already thanked my Adviser for donating some carpentry material and time. She then asked if I had gotten any thank-you notes for working on another scout's project. I said no, and she asked if I had expected one, to which I scoffed out something to the effect of "God no, and I never will." Of course, this escalated into an argument which was partially my fault, but for chrissakes, it was about thank you notes! I mean, come on...

After being thoroughly disillusioned with my family and dinner, I retired to my room in order to organize myself, write a bit more, and maybe even work on homework. Or at least, that was the plan. I wrote for a bit, then discovered a few online games, which I indulged myself in, with the full intention of starting my "real work" at 11 PM, and I'd stay up only until 1 AM. Then Dan IMed me, asking if I wanted to do something like "Midnight Madness". I inquired as to what midnight madness was, and Dan replied that it was something like Black Friday, but it started at midnight. Places like Staples were doing it. Oh boy, did I ever! So I ran downstairs at 11, asking if I could go with Dan. Unfortunately, it was Thanksgiving (that's the name!), and the tryptophan had put everybody to sleep but me, the vegetarian. So I was going to sneak out, and leave a nice little note on my door saying where I was going. I know, I'm a genius...

So we go out, and I bring my life-bag with me. My life-bag has pretty much everything I'd ever need if I was stuck on a deserted island except for food. In it, there were 2 books (Lolita and A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius), my camera, my journal, my iPod, and my secret device which contains all sorts of contraband. Of course, Dan sees the device, knows what it is, and since he's never been high before, starts asking me about it. We discuss the pros and cons of these illegal drugs, and after arriving at the Staples in town--which was reportedly selling a 500 GB hard drive for 80$ (after various rebates)-- and seeing it closed, we began to wonder. What if midnight madness didn't exist? Dan wanted to drive to the nearby town of Rockaway to see if the larger malls were participating, but on the deal that if it didn't happen, Dan would smoke with me. So we go to Rockaway, and we see there are a lot of cars outside of Best Buy. However, upon closer inspection, it's revealed to us that midnight madness DID exist, but it was camping outside of stores, not shopping in them. In 30 degree weather with ridiculous amounts of wind at 1 in the morning, these people were tenting up outside of Best Buy so they could save maybe 25$ on Christmas shopping. Frankly, that's pathetic. I mean, I don't need to put up an argument to justify my position here; I think that the sheer number of Midnight Madness-induced colds, hypothermia and frostbite cases will speak for themselves. Fuck justification, I didn't do it, so I don't have to take the hit. I therefore turn the microphone to you, the reader, and I ask you: What in James' name would compel you to do something like that (If you participated, that is. If not, congratulations. You probably have a higher IQ than a rock.)

So since I was right, Dan and I didn't go directly home. No, we had other plans...plans that involved going to train tracks, then Dunkin' Donuts, then around town, meaning that I didn't get to bed until 3:00 AM! It was beautifully hazy.
Day 2 Sleep- 3:00 AM - 8:00 AM. 5 Hours Oops?

Friday- Friday was a fun day for me. Well, at least if you're the Marat de Sade... I guess what I mean to say is that it had its high points and its low points. I had to get up at 8:00 AM for a reason...and that reason was that it was Black Friday, the most important holiday America, nay THE WORLD, has ever known and will ever know. So of course, since the previous night (morning?) was a failure, I had to get up early and try again, this time with my friend Becca.

-blake

Wow, a 5-day gap...I'm really starting to lose my consistency here. I need to step it up a little bit, put some more posts in here, et cetera. I'm really sleepy though, like...to the point I can't see straight anymore. I'm just going to say what I plan on doing, and then turn the fuck in. I'll probably, like, just end up passing out. Jesus...

So among other things, I am:

• Still working on Johnathon Murray's fictitious discourse, and having fun with it as usual. I'll get much more work on it when I'm home, though.
• Still writing songs. I didn't get to go to Blum this weekend, but I'll try for next. The School of Velocity by Czerny also came in today, so I'll be mastering that as well, which will probably slow down the whole song-mastering process. Sorry.
• Still awesome.
• Starting to write my Christmas list. Yeah, I'm still a little kid at heart.
• Starting to be a member of a new group blog. Rory's site "OmegasEye" is back up, and it's now...you guessed it, a group blog! I'm to be writing about music once a week or so, and I'll post everything I write there on here as well. At the very least, it'll keep you people busy while I fail to update...
• Starting to slowly decompose.
• Still hungry.
• Still a vegetarian, although I made my first mistake last night. I admit that I wasn't entirely sober, but it's still a mistake I could have made whilest sober. I ate a handful of my friend's Lucky Charms without realizing that marshmallows had gelatin in them. Fuck, says I. I sat on the couch for about 10 minutes in an astonished/drunken stupor, unbelieving of what I'd done...but I'm over it now.
• Starting to be finished with my English Lit II paper on Paradise Lost...it took me all afternoon, and it's six pages, so I'm pretty psyched for that. I can almost guarantee it's crap, but...meh. I wants sleep.
• Still doing comedy. We did One-Minute Madness last week, and that went a lot better than last week. My performance is not on the intarwubs yet, but just wait. In due time, you will all receive some more of my hilarity.
• Starting again to listen to my entire iTunes music library. In album order. Today alone, I've made it to Amputechture, and I'm probably going to go to sleep as the album ends.
• Starting to DJ. Yeah, it's fun. That's all I have to say for that one.
• Starting my radio show next semester (hopefully)!!! More on that as I get more information, of course. And finally,
• Starting my top 10 lists. Between you and me, December is going to be FULL of them!

-blake.

Okay, I have everything all figured out, kind of. For once. Ish. As you've noticed, there's nothing new up here tonight. I've noticed it as well, because I haven't worked on anything all weekend. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Stop talking to people and focus. All right. Okay. I'm good, I think.

If you hadn't noticed, this is going to be all completely stream-of-consciousness. I'm just going to vomit up my thoughts for all of you bastard vultures to feast upon in an attempt at self-therapy. Because honestly, I am not happy with myself right now, at all. I'm pissed off that I'm incapable of helping myself, so this is my death throes, so to speak. God knows what I'll do if this doesn't work.

I sort of feel that I'm reverting to an immature person here, as I'm just whining about myself and other people offending me somehow. But if that's what it takes, just call it talking with my inner child, and I'll be happy. If I can just fix this goddamn slump I'm in (this slump has turned into a veritable crater), I'll become totally inhibited and open with you. Maybe I will post what I have up here later on tonight. It'll be grossly incomplete, but it gives you an idea of what I'm writing. But anyway, here's my writing. No holds barred, nothing censored, just me left at a keyboard with my thoughts. And you thought "Lies" was bad...this is going to be horribly unorganized and oh my god I need to stop being drawn-out and just get to it already. START!!!!

I'm really angry right now for a bunch of reasons. First off, I'm angry at my family and my friends. I came down for the weekend, and I only hung out with Dan. I bailed out on a few people because I thought other people had plans, and then those other people bailed out and I was left sitting around at home, having hate-filled conversations with my family and playing video games. Really, that's just incredibly cruel of Karma. I bail out on friends, friends bail out on me, and so I'm left alone with my family when my sanity's been steadily crumbling. Not cool, Karma. Not cool at all.

So my weekend was pretty much a total blowout. Honestly, I wish I'd stayed up at Bard, where at least I'd have known that I was going to be alone. And Dan, I know, OcTUBAfest was so worth it. Honestly, it wasn't. Nothing could make up for all this shit happening to me except for the opposite happening, if that makes any sense whatsoever. Oh yeah, I'm not going to edit this at all, so if something doesn't make sense, tough. It'll stay that way. But OcTUBAfest was fun, even though I didn't know half of the significance behind it. You see, Dan, I'm not a music major. I don't know that they're playing a high Bb, which is really really high for the tuba. I don't know that a low low F (I'm making the notes up as I go along) is really really low for the tuba. I don't, honestly. So yeah, I felt really out of place at the concert, and I tried not to show it. Goddammit man, I just enjoyed the fucking music. That's all I ever do; take things at face-value, and form opinions on them from that vantage point.

I feel that in general, I'm becoming less coherent. I don't really know how to explain this, because it deals largely in my own perception, but I'll try nonetheless. I just feel that, in general, everything of mine is becoming a bit unglued. My sight's going fuzzy, and I feel that I'm not really seeing anything at all. I feel that yeah, my eyes are working, and yeah, my brain's responding, but so what? Why should I take it one step farther? I see an image, but I don't know what to do with it. My hands are like that, I'm not as accurate at typing or playing piano, and I'm making a lot more stupid mistakes than I used to (I am spell-checking this, just not coherency-checking it). I also feel that I'm speaking a lot less eloquently than I should be. It's like being perpetually drunk; you say to yourself "Okay, I can correct this, all I need to do is focus." And then you promptly don't focus and keep on acting the way you were before. My entire life is like that right now.

I'm also starting to scare myself a bit. I've admitted this to two people now, so what the hell, why not the whole fucking internet? I really think that I'm going insane, and I'm medicating this with apathy, alcohol, and weed. Yeah, I quit drinking three weeks ago. So much for that... But anyway, I want to find out whether or not I'm going insane, so I'm going to make active attempts to try and find a therapist. Yeah, that's right. The unbreakable, devastatingly cynical James Blake is going to try and find a therapist and work through all of his problems. I really feel sorry in advance for what'll happen to the poor soul as soon as s/he starts pushing my buttons. It'll be like that scene with DiCaprio and the shrink in The Departed, except worse, because I'm just that kind of a person. I think if I get probed too closely, I'll explode with anger that I've been dying to use for a really long time, but I haven't.

Speaking of anger, this has turned out to be a lot more introspective than I'd hoped it would be. I wanted to name some names and curse those people out, just cram as many fucks and shits into this post as I could. I might still do it, but I'm fucking pissed that I haven't started it yet. See? There's a good old fuck for you.

Shit, I just edited that mini-paragraph, I'm sorry. I put in [Speaking of anger, t] into the paragraph; before it was just "This has, etc." My bad, I'll try to stop myself. Damn me and my compulsive double-checking. I'll be lucky if I can get away with just hitting 'Post' without reviewing what the fuck I actually said.

Also, speaking of shit (I had to do that, this wasn't an edit), I have to take one. And I'm on a laptop, so just live with the knowledge that I'm about to type this next part while on the toilet. You know you want to.

Okay, now that I'm here, I just wanted to share with you all that I'm delighted about how snarky that last part was. I'm happy that I got that quality of snarky out. Jesus fucking christ, I'm already feeling better....wow, this shit actually works. Let's keep going!

What else do I want to talk about? Well, what's on my mind right now? Pretty much just the therapist deal, I'm really fucking nervous about that. I mean, what if/when my family finds out? I'll fucking die. A lot. They might even pull me out of college just for that *shudder*. I thought of "They Might Be Giants" when I said they might even, etc. And that made me think of you. Yes, you. I miss you, but I don't know why. It doesn't even matter; I can almost guarantee that you're not reading this anyway (it took me 3 tries to spell guarantee right, would you believe it? You would, you bastard word-smith-ess (different you this time)). I doubt anyone's reading this. Maybe Doug will, Neala probably will, maybe Becca will. Maybe, by some strange stretch of the imagination, Rory. But I doubt that as well. That's probably another reason why I feel so carefree about posting all this stuff. I think I said this before somewhere, but I don't know/care where. Ah, well.

Oh, speaking of bastard word-smith-esses, yeah, you know who I'm talking about. And by you here, I mean my own demented mind and the person who I'm referring to, who isn't reading this anyway. So let me talk to myself/her for a bit...the other 1 or 2 of you (you = readers here) can skip this paragraph, or you can read it and shake your head in wonder and amazement at my obvious insanity. Why haven't I been locked up yet? Anyway, I can't believe that you wrote that stuff about me in a veiled attempt to take a stab at me. And it wouldn't have worked, either, if I didn't read anything that you wrote. Why do I do that to myself? Why?!?! Do you read this too? I don't think so, even though I advertise it to anyone who will listen at any chance I get...

I guess that's the reason I put the lines I did into my info. I'm going to work that into a song, dedicated to you (Thank me, it's the first song I've actually ever explicitly written about somebody else. Or meta-written, as the case may be right now.) Anyway, I put the lines in there to get a response from you. Something, anything. Why? I don't know. I can't explain myself right now. Remember, I'm the insane person right here. Beautifully, wonderfully, delightfully batshit-fucking-loco. Okay, the porcelain is getting cold. Back to my room. Also, mental note: change "paragraph" in sentence 3 of the last paragraph to "paragraphs". But I'm done ranting about you for now. Seriously, either get the fuck out of my life right now, or step in it forever and ever amen. One or the other, please. I don't like inconsistencies. Oh, and thank you, even though I can't play it yet. Yeah, if you've been reading this, you'd know that my piano teacher ripped apart everything I've done and made me start over. Maybe someday, some year, some lifetime, I'll conquer that 6/8 section. But no time soon. I'M DONE WITH YOU. GO AWAY.

I want to rap. But then I'd have to be not-white, which I can't do. (T-A-K-E-N-O-P-R-I-S-O-N-E-R-S--"Coffee", by Aesop Rock. His new album, by the way, is really good. Like, legitimately good for rap, which is hard to come by for me.)

Okay, back in my room (a paragraph and a half later xD), and I want to discuss one or two more things before I close up the mental shop for the night. First off, I don't know why, but I really want to be in a relationship right now. Like, with anyone. It's sadlypathetic (yes, that's one word), and actually, I think I do know why. I think that since relationships come easy to me, I want something that is both easy and provides stability and balance to my life. Some voice of reason would be really nice right now. Not saying that my friends aren't a voice of reason to me, it's just that I'm relying on them a lot more than I'm used to, and I want to stop doing that. You bastards (you=friends) don't deserve to know this much about me unless you're fucking me. Gosh darn. And I know a few girls who I could start talking to or resume talking to again, but I don't want to do that. I want a relationship, yet I feel very...asexual. A very scary thought for a person like me, especially for those who know the sex-god persona of James Blake.

All in all, I figure I have 5 major personas, and then a bunch of minor ones that are just mixtures of the basic 5. There's sex-god James Blake, cynical asshole James Blake, hopeless romantic James Blake, nerdy white kid James Blake, and serious, musician-type James Blake. That's the best definition I can give to the last one, but you hopefully get the point. Right now, I like a combination of the first three James Blakes, but with more of the silliness from my sex-god persona than biting seriousness from the asshole James Blake. But I can't seem to achieve that combination, I don't know why not.

Oops, I went around finding lyrics rather than discussing the last important point and closing this. The last important point is you (And not the you from before. The last you (and not last in the sense of the last 'you' used in this post (by that, I mean chronologically, the last you))). I touched on you before, but I can't let you go. I seem to have a pattern of this in my life... No, fuck it. I don't want to talk to you, about you, or anything that has to do with you. I've broken enough things due to rage in the last 24 hours.

That's a lie; I've actually been very calm in the last 24 hours. But I don't want to start breaking things because of you. If you read this, please talk to me. Please? No, don't. Don't talk to me. Fuck, it's your choice. Do what you want.

I just said this to one of my friends (who will remain nameless) in an AIM conversation:
(1:00:01 AM) XXXXX: you should be proud of me lol
(1:00:14 AM) Blake: i am
(1:00:16 AM) Blake: im very proud of you
(1:00:26 AM) Blake: but honestly, i'm more worried about myself right now
(1:00:38 AM) Blake: becuase if i go insane and kill myself, what'll you end up doing with your life?
(1:01:17 AM) XXXXX: don't say that
(1:01:47 AM) Blake: lol
(1:01:53 AM) XXXXX: it's not funny

She's right, it's not. As soon as I said that, I got intensely scared. I don't like thinking about death, especially not my own. I haven't thought about that since...aw, shit, I guess I thought about my own death a lot in the transition from high school to college. But not seriously, just like a "I have the power to drive this car through the railing and down into the river and nobody can stop me". And yes, I'm fully aware of how scary that statement just was, but that was honestly what I was thinking. Complete control is riveting, but in an extremely negative way as well. But I won't dwell on that, that stage of my life is long gone. I've been clean from thinking of suicide since I got into college. Even entertaining the notion of suicide fleetingly or jokingly, but I mean, everybody does that at certain points, right? ....ri--right? God, I hope I am.

-blake.

Hi there, how do you do?
My name is you.
Flies, they all gather 'round me and you too.
I don't want you to be alone down there,
To be alone down there, to be alone.
The Devil's apprentice, he gave me some credit,
He fed me a line and I'll probably regret it.
I don't want you to be alone down there,
To be alone down there, to be alone.
"Alone Down There", by Modest Mouse