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07 September 2015 @ 06:47 pm
Place of my own  
Someone tried to impress upon me yesterday the absolute uncoolness that was still having an LJ - but really, the only difference between the two of us was the audience. I don't need one and they thrive on it. Maybe I'm showing my age.

I've had exactly two days off in a row which... has been really great, actually. With my impossibly hectic schedule, these come few and far between. But whenever they happen, if I don't occupy myself being lazy (read: napping), I really start thinking about my own life and I start sliding back into that awful pit of self-doubt - that all of this is a waste and I'm just constantly losing sight of what's really important because I don't know what those are anymore.

I hate how busy I am, but if this is the alternative, then I prefer the busy. Productivity at least tires me out and gives me some sense of personal satisfaction - which isn't exactly the most optimistic view when I'm on the cusp of so many new things (school again, laser eye surgery), but the only thing that's keeping me going.


I've even applied for a volunteer position - we'll see whether anything comes out of that. At minimum it's 2 hours a week, so it may take some interesting juggling in between working part-time, going to school full-time, and having a second job on the side, but I need to do something unselfish and I know myself better than to expect that I would be very good at regular donations. I might be doing it for my own peace of mind, but if that helps someone else in the process...

I've felt too many words in me lately, which is funny when I think about how much I haven't been able to channel them into either fic or pumping out gaming articles. Well, one is my accepted outlet of creativity and the other is work, but neither of them are quite the thing I need to face this frustration I keep passing over.

I saw a picture of my friend on Facebook last night - he passed away just a little over two years ago. He was an internet friend, I only ever spoke to him via chat or text. I realized I couldn't remember what his voice was like. How is that? Two years isn't so long. I can remember details of what it must have sounded like... but that's not the same thing. We were friends and I can't remember any of our conversations in his own voice.

Where do I talk about that kind of thing? Not Facebook or any other social media outlet I've sorta-kinda jumped ship to in recent years. There's only here, and so I've come full circle.

I am a happy person, but I don't want that to mean that I simply wholesale ignore all the unpleasantness in my life just because I'm jaded and cynical and tired of listening to/reading other people's bullshit, denigrating it as so much more teenage angst. I don't want it to be because I'm shallow and can now afford some of the pretty material things that hold back the occasional sadness or loneliness I still feel. I don't want to float through the years of my life, burying myself in repetitive gameplay or in my hoard of sparkly things just to feel like I've accomplished something.

I want to be happy because there has been both good and bad and I've weathered them both and come out on top. Time to do that.
 
 
Current Mood: distresseddistressed
Current Music: Spice Girls - Denying