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06/10/2002 entry: "Something's missing"

Like most summers, I am already miserable. When I'm at home, I don't do a whole lot. So I feel like shit. That makes me do less. And then I end up places like this, writing bullshit in journals and all that.

I do have things to do. How much I want to do them comes into question, and all of a sudden it's 10pm on a monday night and I haven't decided anything yet.

I could be writing articles for my website. I could be getting rock goddess' files and fixing them up. I could be working on my portfolio site. I could be looking for band websites to redesign. I could be out with someone. I could be cleaning my room, for real. Oh well. Once I have a job, maybe I'll be able to kick myself a little harder to get going on things.

Cleaning my room is such a complex process, that it makes me sick and excited at the same time. I have so much SHIT and I have to go through all of it every time to try and make just a little more room for all the new things I've acquired. I am a pack rat. I'm messy. I'm disorganized. It's disgusting and I hate it. Cause then I go to other people's houses and other people's rooms, and see how nice and clean or at least organized everything is. They don't have a lot, so even if it isn't organized it still doesn't look HALF as bad as my room. I'm a sick sick individual. I keep anything that I have significant memories attached to. I only use half the clothes I own, if even that. I can't organize anything I have for my life. If I ever do organize it, it doesn't stay that way. Why am I even bothering to complain about this? Because I suck.

Plain and simple, I make myself sick sometimes, and I think in times like these going to bed early is always a good idea. So I'll take that into consideration.

Summer's the time where we're supposed to be lazy. But I feel dirty and disgusting when I'm lazy. Why anyone wants to be friends with me and talk to me, I have no idea... all I do is complain and whine and talk about how bad of a person I am. Right? Yeah whatever.

I need to stay away from the internet more. Maybe it's a good thing that all the people I wrote emails to didn't write me back. Then I won't expect anything waiting for me here, and I won't want to be on the computer at all and I'll actually get other things done.

Thanks a lot, FRIENDS. The few, the cherished, who act like I'm not here and thereby help me to not want to be here anymore. I guess I should be grateful.