So I've made a blog and as you may have gathered from the title, I don't know why. What sort of expectations do people have of blogs? I visit very few myself and by very few I mean none at all so this might get tedious due to my inexperience. I used to keep a blog but that was some years ago and I mainly used it to tell others of my struggles with anxiety and panic issues. Hopefully this one will have more substance to it or at least be more compelling. Hm, well here it goes...
If my life were the way I wanted it to be this is how my day would have been: I awoke refreshed and full of vigour around 5:30am and promptly got out of bed and took a brisk jog through the downtown while my fellow denizens still slept, recovering from last night's indiscretions. After getting home I ate a hearty breakfas
t of organic farm fresh eggs, bacon, toast and home garden potatoes. Having relished in a long, satisfyingly restorative dump, I took a shower of equal proportions. Slid into my Brioni, slipped on my Berlutis (see picture), I whistled out the door to my awaiting Veyron. and so on and so forth.
As it is, my day hasn't been the worst but to be honest its been pretty shitty and whats frustrating is that I can't really say why. I woke up around 10:30 after 6 hours of sleep (I stayed up late reading), skipped breakfast as usual, took a shower in the mildew factory that is my bathroom, changed, styled my hair using shitty product after discovering I'm out of the good stuff and drove to work, which struck me as pointless and uninspiring today. My photography was shit today but the people buying it didn't seem to notice. I left work early, went to my mum's for dinner, hung out with her for a bit and came home just before seven. Since then I've been glued to the couch, annoyed with the remote that the "zero" button keeps sticking and more annoyed with myself for not having done something more productive today and even more annoyed that I I've neglected to take better care of my physical and mental health over the past few years. My annoyance itself annoys me. As for the rest of my evening I can look forward to watching another Star Trek marathon on the telly before eventually going to bed only to lay awake, staring at the ceiling, enjoying a short and fitful sleep and wake in the morning to have another repetitive day full of let-downs and unfulfilled hopes. I feel like today never happened and it might as well never have.
Well alright, so things aren't as bad I make them out to be but sometimes that's how I feel. I've been trying to keep a more positive attitude lately, making an honest effort to keep upbeat. I've also tried to change the way things are, tried to improve my surroundings. The results are still pending it seems. I tell myself today would be better if I had someone to come home to but I have to learn not to rely on others to keep me happy, instead I must learn to be happy with myself and others.
Goodness that was wearisome and drab, no? I'll have to make up for it and write something a little less trite next time. I'll end this maiden post with a quote, one that I find usually gets my meaning across to people when I explain my biggest problem.
"I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift. Is this madness?" That is of course from Henri Frédéric Amiel's Journal Intime.
If my life were the way I wanted it to be this is how my day would have been: I awoke refreshed and full of vigour around 5:30am and promptly got out of bed and took a brisk jog through the downtown while my fellow denizens still slept, recovering from last night's indiscretions. After getting home I ate a hearty breakfas
t of organic farm fresh eggs, bacon, toast and home garden potatoes. Having relished in a long, satisfyingly restorative dump, I took a shower of equal proportions. Slid into my Brioni, slipped on my Berlutis (see picture), I whistled out the door to my awaiting Veyron. and so on and so forth.As it is, my day hasn't been the worst but to be honest its been pretty shitty and whats frustrating is that I can't really say why. I woke up around 10:30 after 6 hours of sleep (I stayed up late reading), skipped breakfast as usual, took a shower in the mildew factory that is my bathroom, changed, styled my hair using shitty product after discovering I'm out of the good stuff and drove to work, which struck me as pointless and uninspiring today. My photography was shit today but the people buying it didn't seem to notice. I left work early, went to my mum's for dinner, hung out with her for a bit and came home just before seven. Since then I've been glued to the couch, annoyed with the remote that the "zero" button keeps sticking and more annoyed with myself for not having done something more productive today and even more annoyed that I I've neglected to take better care of my physical and mental health over the past few years. My annoyance itself annoys me. As for the rest of my evening I can look forward to watching another Star Trek marathon on the telly before eventually going to bed only to lay awake, staring at the ceiling, enjoying a short and fitful sleep and wake in the morning to have another repetitive day full of let-downs and unfulfilled hopes. I feel like today never happened and it might as well never have.
Well alright, so things aren't as bad I make them out to be but sometimes that's how I feel. I've been trying to keep a more positive attitude lately, making an honest effort to keep upbeat. I've also tried to change the way things are, tried to improve my surroundings. The results are still pending it seems. I tell myself today would be better if I had someone to come home to but I have to learn not to rely on others to keep me happy, instead I must learn to be happy with myself and others.
Goodness that was wearisome and drab, no? I'll have to make up for it and write something a little less trite next time. I'll end this maiden post with a quote, one that I find usually gets my meaning across to people when I explain my biggest problem.
"I find myself regarding existence as though from beyond the tomb, from another world; all is strange to me; I am, as it were, outside my own body and individuality; I am depersonalized, detached, cut adrift. Is this madness?" That is of course from Henri Frédéric Amiel's Journal Intime.
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