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Jul. 11th, 1976 03:43 pmOK. I feel the need to blather about things that no one wants to read about, and I think I’ve found a way around that without having to make them private: I’m going to bury them in the past. If I backdate the entries, they’ll never show up on anyone’s friends list, and no one will bee bothered by them. How’s that for a solution?
Being anal, I went and found the closest year when the day/date relationship was the same, so that the dates the entries were written will correspond correctly – twenty-eight years ago. Happy Bicentennial America!
Anyway, the tripe.
I’ve been feeling incredibly dolorous lately. I feel like a wraith skulking through my own life. Pain, emptiness, loneliness, anxiety. I still wonder about the… benefits… of continuing this way. I don’t see any possibility of change. The future stretches on with the same bleak outlook that today had. Why would one choose to continue with like this? Yet, that is the advice I’m given. No reasoning, no logical arguments, just do it. Still. I ask, “Why?”
I just don’t know.
Being anal, I went and found the closest year when the day/date relationship was the same, so that the dates the entries were written will correspond correctly – twenty-eight years ago. Happy Bicentennial America!
Anyway, the tripe.
I’ve been feeling incredibly dolorous lately. I feel like a wraith skulking through my own life. Pain, emptiness, loneliness, anxiety. I still wonder about the… benefits… of continuing this way. I don’t see any possibility of change. The future stretches on with the same bleak outlook that today had. Why would one choose to continue with like this? Yet, that is the advice I’m given. No reasoning, no logical arguments, just do it. Still. I ask, “Why?”
I just don’t know.
