I have little to say. Or I don't want to say it, or I dunno how to say it. Is there some obligation to say things? No, I think not.
My days have been not so good recently. I've had stuff happening (or not happening, as it were) that made me upset and messed up, and I've had stuff happening that was exciting but I wasn't excited enough, and I feel like everything's more or less stagnant right now.
I guess I could elaborate? I shouldn't be sleeping just yet anyway. It's weird, I feel like keeping my privacy these days, like I shouldn't tell people things because... not sure why actually. Because things change again anyway, which makes any actual event meaningless. It's like running around in a circle trying to catch your tail: the scenery changes, but only for a second and you're back where you started.
And people somehow feel obliged to make comments, to congratulate you on your irrelevant progress, or to encourage you to keep going when you've not made any progress; and they clutch at straws, hoping that things will change now, and you feel bad for them because you know deep inside that they won't. Or they've just given up and accepted that all hope may just be lost, and then you feel bad for them too.
I think I've lost all ambition myself. Well probably I've never had any really, but now that I am continually confronted with it I realise it more and more. Jo-the-counsellor keeps asking me what I want to do, what I would like to do, even in an ideal world, if I could do anything what would I want, and I just draw a blank, again and again, jobwise and hobbywise. I dunno I dunno I dunno, nothing, I want nothing, I want nothingness.
I'm tired right now. Tired of struggling, tired of the counselling which doesn't seem to help, tired of the old patterns I can't (or don't want to) overcome, tired of hurting people, tired of being hurt, tired of needing people, tired of not trusting people, tired of being used, of feeling used, tired of everything, and really I just wanna lie in bed and sleep all day, all day and all night, and read books whenever I can't sleep. But there are things to do and places to go. Apparently. Keeping up a pretence of normality.
There are other things to say, about my father, about money, about Robbie Williams, about job interviews, but they won't be for this entry. Maybe they'll be for a later one, but maybe not because I am under no obligation to write anything in here, really.