Fodder for the sadists out there

'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now'. Is my moaning on here what people what to read. The people that do read, thanks I guess. Is this what you want. I became slightly disillusioned with writing my thoughts and what not up on the interwebs, when I started having real life requests for updated posts on my blog. I like to live in an idealistic bubble online that's separated from reality. THE MATRIX, haha. Not really but in the world where all that matters is the information presented on the 43" light jumping through me eye balls, there isn't any responsibility. I don't have to live up to my many short comings and I can live my sweet denial. Yes you could argue that I'm still depresso expresso, but at least I can distract myself from the loneliness amongst other things I have going on in the big bad world.

The point I have reached now is what I feel is beyond repair without an intervention. Intervention in either me falling apart mentally and asking for help. I don't even know if I can try or desire to fix my position because I've been melancholy for so long. The way I feel has become me and without it I don't know if I could cope. The fragility can be expressed in how I felt when I lost my wallet and rather than feeling annoyance, how I think I should have felt, it just bummed me out all day. I felt like I lost a part of me, even though nothing was in it that couldn't be replace. I got it back and now I feel the same.

Like in the last post where I expressed my lack of pleasure in things, that has not changed. I'm still on the cusp of enjoying things, but I'm yet to find my self to be passionately obsessed with something. I look at how one of my friends is made his uni course his whole life. He isn't miserable with the situation and he doesn't seem to resent the position he's in. Doing 12 hours a day of one thing, real work with results to show at the end and he comes home and is satisfied with how he's spent his day. I can't spend more than 3 hours doing something meaningful without losing interest. I want to say it's just the monkey and if I stick at it I will start to enjoy it but I can't see that happening. My job at the golden shit shack has been going for a couple of months now and I still loathe going in. The optimistic part of me had told myself at the start of the job that I would just have to get used to it and I would make friends. I would just need people to warm up to me. Well I was wrong, I spend 5 hours straight on the grill saying sweet hee haw whilst the other employees happily talk about the biggest-pile-of-nothing around me. It can only be me not them in this case, I've seen people who started later than me become more successful and if I cant do it here I won't be doing it elsewhere.

In truth it maybe I just want an angel to come down from the sky, take me by the hand and carry me away to someone beautiful. But the real world doesn't love me, it doesn't love anyone. It is what you make of it and I'm not good at making it.

I could bring up the feeling of impending doom I get occasionally, the fact I can't stop thinking about my death/dying or even how I can't imagine myself ever being happy but in truth I'm not low enough right now. Nothing shitty has happened to me and I've got a lot to be grateful for. Maybe when I'm on the edge of the cliff I cast a line with juicier bate.

I hope that this has quenched the thirst any of my readers have had for my problems. Don't worry if there's a gap after this post I will probably remain in the doldrums, so future posts are inevitable, not too mention I've started writing in a diary so I more compelled to post on here. I must also apologise for the mediocre literary skills, I've not done this for 2 years. Finally if you have read this far and want to make fun of me, please don't. Unlike in June I don't seem to have the same desire to destroy my mental state further.

Nobody made you read this and of course I haven't proof read. Did You even notice I removed the link in my Bio? Maybe I'll do it again.

Sunbathing under an Umbrella, about as effective as my conversation skills

I understand being miserable doesn't get the ladies but what else am I?