[F.U.C.K. is an e-zine that I started on January 24, 1993 and ended on January 24, 2000. One concept is that articles should be timeless if possible, so they were not released with dates. As such, the date on this blog is not exact but I will try to use a date as close as possible.]
“Why do we, crucify ourselves, every day…“
It’s the opposite of writer’s block, but equally as bad. I sit here alone in my bed trying to express what I am thinking. I have this sudden need and desire to tell the world exactly what is on my mind, what is coursing through my veins. But I can’t. It’s always the not so comfortable thoughts like these that end up plaguing me.
“My pain.. is self chosen…“
I sit here with my laptop on the pillow, head touching wrist, eyes closed. Can’t see anything right now and quite frankly don’t want to. Sleep sounds so much better with each passing thought. Don’t know what’s up with me but something really has me in a bind. My mind gives my body a list of things to do, but they don’t get executed.
“No one should brave that underworld alone…“
I guess now is the best time for things to be like this. Not only are my thoughts really jacked up, but a good friend is going through a really hard time in his life. A time where he faces losing his girlfriend and daughter.. maybe for days, months, or not at all. You just can’t tell with the court system today.
“That old dog has chained you up alright…“
Other friends are seeking me out for advice on various matters, most of which I am not qualified to lead on. One friend is having problems with a girl he is interested in. Another has a problem but I have no idea what its about. Dozens of people mail me a day asking me for technical advice on just about everything. Why me? I can’t be that qualified to answer all this. Especially the advice on girls and life.
“Tongue tied and twisted, just an earthbound misfit.. I..“
The thing bothering me is more frustrating than it has ever been. I think it stems from the fact that even I don’t know what I want. Since I can’t figure it out as far as my own thoughts are concerned, how am I supposed to be able to guess what someone else’s thinking? That leaves me with way too much time to ponder my dilemma before I will get the answer I am looking for. Doesn’t really matter what the answer is, just the fact that the answer looms around the corner.
“No you can’t take that away from me…“
No matter what happens in my life, I keep getting the feeling that no one really understands me. Like everyone else, I have my world of problems but I can’t talk about them because it seems like no one else comprehends. Or maybe they don’t want to. The more I think about it the more I wonder if they even realize it. My inner turmoil has been with me for so long, I wonder if I disguise it, or wear it so openly that my friends don’t even notice it.
“Hold onto nothing, as fast as you can…“
I know things will work themselves out, but I always worry if they will do so in an orderly fashion. Part of my anal retentive nature or some other ancient curse on me. Twenty three years of survival tell me things will right themselves.
“I don’t mean to pick you apart you see…“
What to do until then? Figure out what I want at this point in my life. After talking to a friend tonight, I find out others out there are unsure of what they want. Why the indecision? Why the lack of focus or direction? There must be some underlying desire for a new perspective on life. Or maybe a need for a little action out of life.
“I’ve got enough guilt to start my own religion…“
Until I have clarity of thought, I can only hold on to the things I have. My castle, my work, my hobbies. Solace of music, escape of movies, and freedom to do. My handful of friends, wishful thinking, and vision of daily monotony. Anger, content, guilt, and comfort.