the past 24 hours...

i asked someone on a date and she said no. seeing as it was only the 4th time i'd ever asked someone out [hooray for social anx'y!], i felt like absolute shit about it. i'm sure most can just shake those kinds of things off, but since i'm so picky when it comes to love interests and such a damned romantic, i was pretty crushed. i tried to shake it off, but it proved difficult, and ultimately didn't work.

went bowling. it was fun. maintained my 165 average and such. had the classic chuckles w/ friends.

came back to the neighborhood. hopped in a jeep with five friends, popped 600mg gabapentin hoping it'd dissipate all my sadness and anxiety. went to la jolla. i was very energetic at first, running around and blaring my music and shit. then i ended up standing all by myself at the edge of a small cliff, just staring out into the ocean. started to think about everything -- money, job, love, future plans, mood.

got back in the car. they were playing hardcore music, so i put my headphones on and was quietly singing along to songs. the gabapentin was kicking in and i was just kind of moving around to the music and taking in the sights of the shoreline. went to sunset cliffs. did more of the same shit... walked down the steepass hills while in a zombie-like state, just following the others while staying in my own little world. not really feeling anything emotionally -- just empty.

after about 45 minutes we headed back to the car. i put the headphones on again and just kept doing what i'd done earlier. when i closed my eyes i could see words in what looked like engraved times new roman font. random words and phrases. "three men keep." "the words mean nothing." "magic is elsewhere." still felt nothing emotionally, save the joy of having music pushing directly into my ears.

came back to the neighborhoodx2. everyone else left but i stayed at my friend's house. went to denny's with him. had a really depressing/interesting conversation about multiple things. "did you foresee us being like this 5 years ago?" "have i done more drugs than you?" "am i a druggie?" "do you believe that i'd go through on my plan to drive away with no money and just see what happens?" "do you believe that i would really kill myself?" "what the fuck are we doing with our lives?" "why are we living the high-school life so many years after we were supposed to?"

went back to friend's house. smoked half a pack. shot the shit. talked about the night. he asked me if i had fun. i said i didn't know; it was impossible to say because i didn't really feel anything the whole time. told him i was depressed about everything that's happened, both recently and over time. went home. writing this entry.

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here is what's going wrong for me right now.

i have no health insurance, and i need health insurance because i need my medications. i'm running out of pills (less than a week's worth left), so i've had to decrease my dosage from 250mg -- which made me INCREDIBLY stable and happy -- to 100mg, which [obviously] isn't doing shit. but no insurer will cover me because i have a "preexisting condition". i hate it. preexisting conditions... what the fuck is that? so the people who need insurance the most just get straight-up denied because they're already sick? now that's sick. i don't even attempt to think about what'll happen to me once i run out of my meds -- hell, the thought of thinking about it scares me.

i suck at starting relationships. when it comes to making relationships last, [i think that] i'm wonderful. but i have so little experience in making the 'opening moves' that it most always turns out badly. it's fucking terrible. i don't know what to do, say, think, interpret, whatever. i like you. give me a chance. let's see what happens. doesn't work out, fine. works out, fantastic. i don't know how to phrase this in a way that doesn't sound arrogant: i so rarely express interest in anyone that, when i do, it really really means something. well, live and learn. or something.

i have no job. i've applied to maybe two dozen places, and all that's come out of it is a couple things saying they've put me on the 'waiting list'. well that's great, but it doesn't help me much. maybe it's my resume -- most of the time i just list my 3 yrs as a student worker at the library, which is essentially meaningless. maybe, since i'm applying largely to retail shit, i should put in some of my high school achievements...note to self. and i almost never list my 3-month stint at the law firm, seeing as i got fired from it and don't want any potential employers contacting my old boss just to have him tell them how shitty of an employee i was. and it's especially bad because

i am running out of money. less than $500 left, and once that's gone that's it. nothing. no income. no idea how i'll be paying down my credit card.

i just feel like shit. nothing seems to be going right. i'm leaving for berkeley on thursday [or so it's planned..], and hopefully the change of scenery will do me some good. something tells me, though, that my mood will just persist. i hate being like this. why do i need meds to be able to behave the way i'd like to behave all the time?

my life is just going nowhere fast. money down, confidence down, goal-oriented actions down, etc. i'm on the verge of giving up completely; the only thing holding me back, maybe, is that basic human instinct to survive. persevere. i don't know what to think.

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that's damned lovely. from determined, excited salutatorian with a nice group of friends and aspirations of becoming a physicist to this unemployed, poor, drugged up sadsack. there've been so many points where i felt like things were finally turning around, but something -- be it just the random events of life or my own actions -- inevitably trashes it up. there's nothing to be said about it. it just is.

i don't know what would make me happy at this point.

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...jesus fucking christ.

[part 1 of this entry: just cleaning up;
part 2: some actual thoughts.]

i haven't blogged in over a month. i apologize -- mostly to myself, 'cause it's hard for a 'writer' to be a 'writer' without 'writing' ... right?

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my life lately? reading nietzsche [why?], applying for jobs, repetitititive nights, sleeping at sunrise, waking up in the afternoon, missing berkeley, smoking too much, reminiscing, shooting the breeze.

not the life i'd prefer, but knowing that i'll be out of here in a week makes it tolerable.

plus, i figured out a few things i can do to make this last week a lot more interesting than the previous (x) -- shall def'ly keep interested parties informed on that.

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i've learned a lot in my time in san diego so far:

it's a near-truism:
old friends surprise me in bad ways,
new friends in good ways;

staying out til 4 or 5 in the morning is meaningless when i do the same thing every single night;

my life is only as valuable as what i do with it [re-learned for the 38th time!];

and a lot of other stuff.

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my sleeping pattern is all wrong at the moment -- last night i went to sleep as the sun rose, and today i woke up to catch the last bits of pink-orange sky before nighttime. seeing as i'm home early tonight, this may be the night i fix that, unless i get caught watching three straight episodes of 'skins' again or something.

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okay, now that the thin stuff is out of the way--

since i graduated from berk in may, i feel like i've grown up, but not enough. i don't have motivation to do much. the people around me don't do much, so it makes me think that it's acceptable to be the same way.

i haven't worked on my stories in forever. i was childish and shortsighted enough to get fired from my last job. i've hardly met anybody new. and that whole 'get along better with the parents' deal that was the goal of this trip in the first place hasn't really panned out.

but things are progressing.

i've realized that it's hard to have inspiration for stories when i'm not doing enough living to be inspired. i've realized that some jobs can be fun, but others are just something that i have to suck up and go through with so i can keep myself afloat. i've realized that there are some people that will just never mesh with me the right way.

like everybody else, i want to feel like i'm worth something. some people call it 'having power', others 'making a difference', and still others 'changing lives'. i'm confident that i can do more than this nonsense i've been pulling for the past month. it's just that san diego always has a way of slowing me down, distracting me, and letting me be content with being what's obviously less than what i could be.

so,

fuck you, san diego.

i'll probably be back soon enough, but it will be not out of choice but out of circumstance. and when i do come back, i'm going to ignore you. you won't drag me down again, and i won't let you lure me with your sodding siren song and turn me into shit.

it's balls out; everything -- writing, money, friends, power, living a damned purposeful life -- it's a matter of not being afraid. so, fuck it. not going to be the one who wakes up at 30 and wonders why the fuck i didn't try to A or move to B or ask out C. i'd rather take all the risks that i think will make me happy in the long run, even if i die trying. if it kills me, so be it -- rather be killed by my words and my actions than by indifference and boredom.

love you, but you're bringing me down.
so, fuck off.

word, could've sworn i've posted at least once since the 'I GOT FIRED' post. guess not.

some of what i've done since then:

• applied for a couple server/buser jobs
  
• stuck 'nice notes' all over campus
  
• had some grass
  
• laid down the beginnings of a weird experimental-y song
  
• thought about going home
  
• did a lot of [over]analysis of my sitchy in m'journal
  
• had some more grass
  
  • thought about whether i'll have to buy more 'detox-7' if i get a job interview anytime soon
  
  
• slept a lot lot lot
  
• 'got' a bunch of new musics that i'm enjoying a lot [namedrops: flammy lips, dan deacon, high places]
  
• started watching 'skins'
  
• cleaned my dirtass room
  

needless to say there's been a lot of drearyidlesadface alone time
but you'll be happy to hear that i've kept the normally-associated 'want 2 kill mself' thoughts at bay,
99% of the time

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EXTREMELY sad that i can't afford to go to treasure island music fest this wknd... can't even put it into words.

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i may go home sometime this weekend. it's sort of a 'planned whim': i have no set day to leave, it just depends on whether the mood to pack up and go ever hits me.

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supposed to rain like hell tomorrow [today]. which i like, because it justifies my not doing shit all day.

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apologies for this mostly useless entry.