drivel

I've been reading Bukowski and Doctor Who books and it's all gotten me thinking about the importance of happiness in this vastness of time and experience I find myself in. I have my Bukowski book open to a poem called "a plausible finish" and it works well for my mood, especially when i'm being insomniac like this. It ends like this:

I suppose what most people do
when there isn't any place to go
is to go some place or to something
that hardly satisfies them,
and this ritual tends to sandaper them
down to where they can somehow continue even
without hope.

Those faces you see every day on the streets
were not created
entirely without
hope: be kind to them:
like you
they have not
escaped.

His brand of cynicism is refreshing.

Ever since reading Slaughterhouse-Five I've been thinking about the Vonnegut concept of time and of death, which carries on from the idea that time doesn't exist, so one is always constantly living their life...and it seems so wonderful and sad that I'm wondering what I'm doing with myself. If time is a non-entity and in some form I'll be re-living my life for the rest of forever (in this scenario, I'm aware that 'forever' doesn't quite work, as it's a measure of time, but "for the rest of now" sounds odd to me) wouldn't it be in my best interest to be as happy as possible? As satisfied as possible? And shouldn't that be a priority anyway?

I've been hiding from a lot. I joke with people I talk to about my hermetic nature, but it really is my tendency to withdraw, observe, analyze. I'm not sure if that's what I really want, to isolate, or if I'm withdrawn because it's easier than interacting with people in more than just superficial ways.

My mother has been worrying me. I live with her and she relies on me for a lot of support which I'm not really capable or comfortable in giving. She's an amazing and intensely loving person, but has issues with depression (which she takes medication for) and with needing to rely on others for her own self-worth. This damages me because a lot of the time I don't realize how important something is until she's crying about how insensitive I am. It's difficult knowing she sees me as such a disappointment, but I also know that It's warranted and I need to change if I want to keep our relationship from tanking.

I want to grip at things, anything, just for the solidity.

Okay...

Have recovered a bit from the existential angst-a-thon that was last night/this morning, definitely feeling better. That kind of thing is why I should probably get to sleep earlier.