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I'm sick of losing motivation every time I move to a different city and start a different university. I'm well aware of the trite little "wherever I go, there I am" running-away-from-myself nonsense, and that is no doubt a factor.
Within six months of living in one place, I lost motivation to get up in time for class and find myself hitting the snooze button on the alarm for an hour, if I even wake up to hit it. I grow tired of the friends I have in a given place and get the desire to leave town at eleven in the p.m. and go see old friends now far away. But a few months (or is it years now?) ago, was I not tired of them? I don't remember anymore. It's almost ten p.m. now and I find myself wanting to get up and drive two hundred miles north to see a friend I haven't seen since I took ecstasy at a New Year's party and left an hour later because I found everyone at the party rather dull. I find myself wanting to get piss drunk every night wanting to shove shit up my nose every weekend.
I keep telling myself it's part of my immaturity, that as I get older things will just click into place and I'll be a responsible, functioning adult. Funny, I remember saying that a few years ago. I've come to the point where I'd rather just say fuck all to my education, find I job I don't hate too much, keep a few close friends, continue chain smoking until I grow a tumor which I will endearingly name "Spanky" and take on picnics until he turns on me one night and seizes a lung or three.
I don't really know if I hate myself or everyone around me. I refuse to allow myself to be naive enough to believe that there's some brilliant fucking place I'll find some day where I'll have the most wonderful friends, cigarettes will be cheap and able to be smoked anywhere, alcohol will be delicious and get me drunk at a very fine pace, and the narcotics I prefer get me good and high for a decent price. I'll have a job I love, get to fuck with my art and be all intellectual and brilliant and recognized and all that shit.
Somebody send me a pizza and a pack of Nat Shermans. And a case of Heineken Dark. |
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