Man Whatever

I was planning on posting something along the lines of the following blog post tomorrow morning/early afternoon.

As some of you may have noticed, I didn’t make a blog post yesterday. I have prepared a number of excuses as to why this occurred. I love excuses.

Yesterday was physically exhausting. I got up at around 4:40 am after having gone to bed at around 11:40 the previous night. For the next 18+ hours I was lifting, carrying, walking, ascending, descending, plugging, unplugging, chatting, and actively waiting for any of the previous. I ate McDonald’s and burritos and pizza and drank quite a lot of soda, with some water here and there. I helped pack trucks that now hold more stuff than they should be able to hold. Miracle, or a profound misunderstanding of everything on my part? You decide.

Yesterday was emotionally exhausting, perhaps even more so than it was physically. Highs and lows as far as the eye could see. Laughter and silliness and aggravation and self-scrutiny and despair and rage and despondence and indifference and amusement. I wanted to stab people one minute, and dearly wished absent friends were with me the next. Like every time I feel emotions, they manage to be fickle, short lived, and ultimately have little to do with the situation at hand. More of a nuisance than anything else. Why do I have them? Because stabbing out one’s Amygdala would probably come with a thousand and one unforeseen consequences, or at least an embarrassing death. Sides its hard to aim for your own head.

I lied, there aren’t really any additional excuses beyond these two. More disappointment or something, I guess. I did say I would post a blog post every day if possible, didn’t I? Did I break my promise? Maybe, but consider the fact that promises are only as good as the person who makes them. Humans, for instance, are sick, depraved little monsters who deserve to die. Should we really be all that shocked when one breaks a promise? Sure it’s fine to be disappointed, but it gets boring after a while. I know this from experience.

Truth be told, I actually had a post in mind during my day. It was going to be about the sort of satisfaction that can only come from having accomplished something, and how things like indulging in laziness and snacks really can’t compare. I was really looking forward to it as well. Only problem was, when the day ended and I was finally free to head home, I felt no such satisfaction. Only the sort of emptiness that comes with seeing all your friends quickly scatter back to their own, apparently more fulfilling lives, leaving you to wonder just what it is you expected to happen.

It’s because of this feeling that I sometimes make a point of avoiding social functions, because while the highs of fellowship are certainly dizzying, the inevitable drop leaves me wanting to break things, so I can feel angry and empowered and aggressive instead of sad and pathetic and alone. Still not sure why I pretend that’s any better; I end up feeling hollow regardless. 

But turns out I finished writing it before midnight. So I guess I’ll post it now. I’ll probably regret every word of this later.


One Response to Man Whatever

  1. Flak says:

    I know well the feeling of watching friends disperse. Sucks. *hug*

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