Author Information
Autobog
The weeks have gone by since I've come back to Cincinnati, and my twenty-first year continues to feel like my longest. I've done nothing to advance myself any further. As of now, the most recent significant thing I've done is have sex with a girl that I couldn't manage to force myself to fall in love with. The sex was great, and the girl is beautiful. I enjoyed being close to her very much and I guess in a small way I did become attached to her, but it wasn't enough for either one of us. Now she's cut me off, which is responsible of her. I'm doing what I can to leave her alone; so that she can be over me and so that I can get used to being lonely once more.
Using someone for sex isn't healthy or morally just. In my defense: at the time, I didn't see it that way. She enjoyed it just as much as I did, if not more so. But to most people it simply isn't a healthy way to exist in tandem with another person. I loved it and the dynamic of our "relationship" was beautiful to me. We still spent time together, talked about anything we may have talked about while dating, and connected in an odd way. It felt like the right thing to do, so I continued. I don't regret a fucking moment, and would do it all again.
Recently I've graduated to an entirely new level of marijuana enthusiast. By that, I don't really mean to imply that my tastes have become more refined, or that I've been doing what I can to sample a wider variety of the substance. No, what I mean to say is that I've been doing it almost constantly. At times I worry that it's getting out of hand, but then I remember why it's become like this in the first place: Because, why not? When you're an unhappy person, in a situation that simultaneously is terrible and entirely out of your control, and there's something accessible that is cheap and wildly entertaining... Why not?
When I smoke, I feel so light and happy. I feel okay with the person that I am, which is something that I never get to experience when I'm not blitzed out of my mind. I ask you, gentle folk that may be reading this pseudo-LJ entry: Do you condemn me? I hope that you do not, for I would not condemn you. I would possibly propose a high-five, and then I would pass you the bong.
So I'm a sad and lonely pothead, who is trying desperately to slap his life back together. I'm heading back to school in a couple of days! Can you believe that maniacal bull shit? Honestly, I never thought I'd return to my academic life ever again. Had I not, I'm not if I would've regretted it. I wonder aloud, every day of my life, if getting any kind of degree in any sort of nonsense will help me at all. I have no idea what I want to do. I do not have enough confidence in any aspect of myself to apply it to a potential career. I am a creative, artistic motherfucker, but my well of inspiration is so brutally fickle and most of the time: entirely absent. I have been trying to finish the same piece in Photoshop for WEEKS now, and as of today, I still have not completed the newest comic for our website. When did we last update? Probably about two months ago by now.
I feel like a resounding failure as a human being. I've dreamt of being someone worthy of note. Imagine being the kind of person that people admire and look up to; that future generations are educated about and that people aspire to emulate. I wanted to be someone just like that. I still do, and some times I do so badly that I feel absolutely enraged and disgusted with this pitiful thing I've become. I was supposed to turn out so much better than this, and I just didn't try hard enough. Now I'm just so tired and full of doubt that I don't think I'll ever really be able to pick myself up again.
I never really know when people believe in me. I always assume everyone's lying, because so many people do. So many people are the same. And if I did finally meet that girl that was worth the time it takes to chase her down? She'd see me for what I really am, and she would look the other way.
And I'd still be the same.
