Exploratory Ramblings

I’m at an impasse. I am scared about the future, the present, and the past. I am not confident although I’m sure that is becoming obvious to everyone around me even though I attempt to exude confidence every single second. Someday I’ll figure shit out, then most likely immediately die. I have a small group of people who really believe in me. I often wonder what is wrong with these people. Considering the best predictor of the future is the past, and let’s be honest the past is a fucking shit show.

I have no idea what I should do with my life. You might think that I do considering I have chosen a major and started going back to college, but alas you would be wrong. I write in a blog and consider my place on this mortal coil. That is currently is my place, FYI.

I have a small family that depends on me, emotionally, because as you can imagine... Being a sensible slacker doesn’t pay well. These people believe in my talent, and drive, to eventually carry me into... Something. Did I mention I’m working on a novel. Yup. A novel. I have this delusion that my voice means something, and people can find solace or happiness in my ramblings. If just one person chuckles from my mishaps then my job is done here folks.

I have a bipolar disorder. It makes it impossible to ever really know if my confidence is real, or the product of a manic phase. It also makes it impossible to really know what I’m doing from one day to another. It is also entirely possible there is a personality disorder in there as well, you know, just for good measure. Oh! Let’s not forget the crippling anxiety that makes every single trip out doors like a fucking haunted house ride of panic and paranoia. The pot helps with that by the way, but obviously I can’t be baked out of my mind twenty four hours a day. Eh, never mind... Cause I totally am. Hell I’m high as hell right god-damn-now. Wink. There really isn’t a point to this. Wait... That’s not true. This is cathartic, and I deserve that.