well that's what i am. or at least that's what i've become in recent months. too little work, too much television. i can't stand my conversations. skipping stones on the shallowness of life, as i once described someone. it came back to haunt me.so it's all kind of organized (i don't like using the word like), with the expected and natural gaps, but sooo dull.
and my patience i running out. i'm waiting for the next great thing, but not exactly waiting passively. always adding new bricks, trying to understand the problems arising from the height of the existing stack. hoping that my Babel will not come crashing down (although i'm seeing new aspects of misunderstanding).
panic overcomes me sometimes. panic that life is getting the best of me. but not that i'm giving it my best. i catch myself speaking nonsense because i cannot cope with chitchat. i'd rather be doing something speechless with friends. instead of this communication of convulsion, sickening. and as the panic sets in i loose control of my being. and i end up seeking balance and content in the purity of physical activity. in the end i don't have much to say - do i?
i should just get out of the house.
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