Hello. I’m feeling weird/not super and have for the last few hours/days. I feel everything is to be done, yet i don’t know what to do about anything, so i felt i might as well write. i don’t know if i’ll enjoy doing this, because most of the writing i’ve been up to lately has been schmoetic writing, complacent writing. You look through the mess your life is (but not in the eye), you see some cozy, fancy feelings, so you just contemplate those. Select and aestheticize. That kind of writing isn’t really going anywhere for me anyway, i guess because i’m so lost i keep going back to the same little emotions on and on and deconstructing them until i can’t tell anymore whether i’m describing them faithfully, or if i really want to describe them that faithfully anyway. If i fail, it’s not like they die, is it ? They’re still in me. Anyway, i don’t know what the hell i’m saying right now, i’d just like to take a cold look at things for a change and relate sort of what’s going on right now in a non over-organised or over-aestheticized way. Just let it flow some.
So yeah, as i’ve mentioned elsewhere i’m living with my folks again. The rent was uncomfortable. I also realise i was living very, very very, very very very very unhealthily while on my own! i was sick pretty much all the time for two years and just kind of assumed i had a bad health now because doom or something, when this was in fact probably due for the most part to my lazy, self-neglecting ways. Indeed, since moving back here three months ago, my health has been pretty much awesome. Definitely a reason for my not running the hell away to another apartment like i assumed i would within the first few weeks of staying here. i don’t want to be that person again, i want to make sure i’m ready for this.
It’s not like i’m an altogether different person now, far from it. As i’m writing this i’m lying down, for one ; back at my place that used to be my computer-position, one i’d adopt for hours on end (i didn’t even have a chair in my place, that’s how bad it was. Neither did i have a matress, mind you).
i still go out very little. Yesterday my best friend very simply asked : “do you see anyone apart from me and your coworkers ?”, and i had to, very simply, answer that no, i don’t, not often.
My room’s still pretty messy, though at least it’s okay enough that i can invite someone in with no shame, and it’s clean and stuff, not just because i get to have a maid go in now (whether i like it or not!) but because i live with other people and therefore try to give a fark i guess, i may lack respect for myself, i definitely don’t want to disrespect other people (especially when they’re my mom, you know), so i tidy up my place.
In fact some things are for the better now possibly because of that very situation of not-living-alone. i used to not do the dishes. Now i do everyone’s. i try to wash my clothes weekly, preferably several times a week, i don’t wait until the pile is super-tall anymore. i help with the shopping, and i don’t buy just feel-good food anymore, in fact i just skip my favourite altogether now because it brings back memories i’m now ashamed of of eating nothing but that. i just buy the healthy stuff (there’s enough junk food in the house anyway that i don’t have to worry about that), regularly and for everyone.
i live closer to the swimming-pool now, which helps because i get to go even when i don’t really feel like it (it’s closed this week btw, which makes me want to murder dragons). i don’t murder dragons anymore. Yeah, some things are kind of better.
The situation’s also very different from when i lived here before having a job, in that i no more feel unwelcome and therefore constantly stressed. Everyone’s okay with my being here for a while, possibly longer. It used to be “get your ass out of here and get a job”, but i guess they really just meant get a job. Also with my big brother being married now, my sister now living with her manfriend, it’s just my little sister and me at home, so i think they enjoy the extra company. Turns out they argue all the time now that they’ve got nothing or little else to do, maybe i serve as a welcome distraction from that.
Also i realise that whatever advantage there was to living on my own, i wasn’t taking advantage of it, at least not in a good way. i never had anyone over. it was just a place of abandon, i’d arrive home, drop my $#!+ on the floor and lie down for hours and eat gross things (and murder dragons). i was like an animal who found himself a nice spot to die. i want my next apartment to be a good place to live. i used to not like living with my family because i’d rather be on my own. Now i’d still rather be on my own but because i actually have i know it takes skill and willpower, which helps make the drag of lacking privacy a more relative one (and it’s not like i used to privacy anyway when i had it, ahem : /). My justification for keeping a low-end job has always been : i want to be able to be happy with a simple, not-optimal situation, because if i find that in me, i know when i have better luck i’ll be able to appreciate and take advantage of it, rather than, say, screw it up (the way it is now there’s no reason i wouldn’t considering i can hardly maintain even a lame situation where i have so few responsibilities). Guess my point is : it’s okay, for me that’s okay anyway, having that job (though i can certainly do better than that and will look into that very soon for a million reasons). Neglecting my health : that wasn’t okay. Living with the family now : frustrating but i guess okay, at the moment. Trying to sort things in terms of okayness. It’s very, very much time to move on, but i want to do this with okayness in mind always.
You’re reading a new paragraph yet i didn’t really feel like adding one because i’m tired of writing right now. to be continued