I'm sick and tired of drifting, goddamnit. I have drifted along in life for the last 14 fucking years. What the hell is the meaning of life? Where in tarnation is my passion for life? I like to say that I have a passion for writing and for creativity, but oftentimes I find myself peering blankly at the monitor of the computer and thinking to myself, Yeah, nothing's coming. If I'm such a fucking "writer," I would think that I would have stories bubbling up constantly. I'm like a goddamned blank slate. No. Scratch that. I'm like a slate that had writing on it but was erased: There's remnants of something up there...but I can't read it.
Also, why is it that I am a veritable mute, sometimes? How the hell does one pick up the art of conversation? I'm fucking boring, sometimes, and I'm goddamned sick of it.
In the past--now over seven months ago--I would have dealt with the fucking boredom with swift justice: Hammered the Beast o' Boredom with a beer or twelve. That's...not an option any longer. Is there a store out there that sells Passion?
Motherfucking malaise. Motherfucking morass. More ass? I wish. ;-)
On an unrelated note, I have a question for you Cyberites, many of whom are women: What's a good thing to do for a date? I had a date planned for Saturday--Tiger game--but it's sold out, and now I'm at a complete loss of something to suggest instead. We've met for coffee, gone bowling and had dinner. You would think that it would be relatively easy to come up with something to do. Dinner and a movie? Maybe. Anyone have any suggestions out there?