Emptiness

Where did my life go? I still have no contact from either M. or Y. and this disturbs me terribly. The only plans I’ve dared to make revolve around these two women I’ve never met. Somehow this strikes me as a rather poor way to ensure my happiness.

But what are my other choices? Go out and date? have a normal life? No, this is where my ego gets in the way. I want an extraordinary life. I want my life to be a story of epic proportions. If there’s love in my life it must win against all odds. Who cares if some horny guy finds a horny girl and they go on to tolerate each other for the rest of their lives? Why would I want that? Why would I want to live with someone whose values are rooted in this place I’m coming to disdain more with each passing day?

But this is all my failure as an artist. If I cannot make a statement with my work, I compensate by trying to bring some element of life into my life.

The problem is ultimately that I’m waiting for something. And I keep on waiting. And my life is draining away a little at a time. Eventually there will be nothing left but a corpse and not even anyone to remember what I could have been. I keep waiting, but I’m afraid to jump. I’m the drivier of my own life and I’m riding the clutch.

One of my character flaws is that I’m good at self-delusion. I wonder if its possible that I could convince myself that whatever I’m waiting for has actually arrived? What would that look like?