A Distorted Reality.

When I see you, I’m on fire.

I finally see my main problem in life at the moment: I completely lack any semblance of the quality of passion. People are unable to move me. Music fails to motivate me. Even the newborn kittens next door can’t raise even a smile.

My writing has been reduced to this: this tragic semi-rambling, devoid of any real content and lacking intention.

It’s times like this when I can usually listen to Envy’s Insomniac Doze and just forget whatever (no doubt stereotypically teenage) problems I’m facing, and just focus my mind upon one thing: this one thing usually being writing something or fixing a 1960s, 1970s or 1980s film SLR and selling it on for a profit, as is my main income stream these days. Now, this album is the one of Envy’s works which is practically universally criticised by fans and non-fans alike for being rather samey all of the way through: but this is why it works for me; it can be put to play and pretty much ignored by the end of Further Ahead of Warp for the feeling of having heard it all before - it’s like my white noise, I suppose. In spite of the repetitious nature of the songs, each one is beautiful and capable of putting me in somewhat of a trance individually. Read the translations of the lyrics and you’ll see just from that how moving these songs are. Or you could just download the album here, for free.

But, of late, it’s not doing it any more. I can’t focus; I can’t get involved in my work; I can’t get wrapped up in something and ignore all else. As stated earlier, nothing is affecting me. I’m passive almost to a stoic extent, and I really don’t want this right now. I want the side of me that can see beauty in everything; no matter how perverse the object of beautification or my methods of beautifying it. I want the side of me willing to justify pederasty as love little more than misinterpreted by our incorrect cultural viewpoints; ‘age is but a number’, and all that. No, I have to be stuck with this all-consuming, omnipresent cynicism and paranoia at a time when it is not useful to me: I don’t need the defence mechanisms right now; I just want a little misguided happiness.

I’m not living: I’m just alive.