I’m glad you are here. Many nights, you are the only person I can talk to. There are precious few people in this world who REALLY know me, and everyone is so goddamn busy. Though you can’t talk back to me, you can’t play with my hair as I tell you a story, you can’t drink some wine with me, I can’t spoon you as I go to sleep tonight… you are the best I’ve got right now.
I’ve been blessed to have the voices of some very enlightened, self aware people in my ears lately. Marc Maron, Neale Donald Walsch, Eckard Tolle, to name a few. I’ve realized something. I have a very hard time sitting still and just BEING with myself.
I tell people that I like myself. It’s so easy for me to believe 99.99% of the time…
…but every now and then, I just get really fucking tired of “working on the computer”, practicing the bass, and whatever other “project” I have going on at the moment. I am beginning to suspect that I spend a great deal of my time running from myself. I suspect that my addiction to “being busy” is all about my failure to just be still with ME. It’ may be about my hidden self loathing. One thing I’ve learned is that I’m artificially busy. I sit at this desk for hours upon hours, and don’t seem to turn out much in terms of valuable work. Yet, when a deadline approaches, I wait until the very last moment, then spring into a furious blaze of productivity, creating fantastic work in very little time. I actually don’t need much time to do great work.
I need distractions.
I’m even having a hard time writing this.
I eat. I masturbate. I surf the web. I goof around on Facebook. I play around on dating web sites. I drink. I think that if I didn’t have to be to work in the a.m. so early, I’d smoke a lot of weed.
I met a girl recently. I should probably tell you about her, though I don’t know how much I can tell you, because I’m a tad bit confused and mystified at how it’s going.
Including myself. I’ll talk more about that in a few minutes.
I’m so busy.
I actually do want to have an amazing someone in my life to share it with.