Just One Lost Soul Swimmin' in a Fish Bowl

Over the past 3 or so days, I managed to isolate myself from all technology except a cell phone for safety purposes. Once, I was conversing with someone about how television is but a box meant to keep the general public docile and misinformed and my friend looked at me and said "well, so is a computer. it has become the future generation's tv set." and I realized he spoke the truth. While the internet in all it's technologically advanced glory is one of the greatest inventions ever, it builds barriers upon barriers. So, I spent 3 days doing things like laying in grass, gazing at stars, playing bass with others, listening to old albums I haven't heard since I was younger, etc. I also used this time for self-analyzing and getting to know myself better, so I disconnected contact with friends, save one phone call. I took off from my shift at the bookstore and did some thinking. Quite a good deal of thinking.
After all this thinking, I've only come to a few conclusions and left most of my questions unresolved, but this is a good start, I think. One thing I have come to realize about myself, is that I tend to limit myself more than I should. If I have painted this large canvas and I took a few hours to finish it and I really enjoyed myself while I was painting, for the while as I am standing back and staring at my finished product, I am pretty well content with my work. However, if I so much as for a second look at someone else's artwork who might have done a better piece, I become discouraged and adopt the feeling of failure. As if no matter what the circumstances were, what it came down to in that instance was my failure and the other artist's success at producing a visually appealing and thought-provoking piece of art. When someone calls me an artist, I don't feel like I should accept such a highly-regarded compliment because I suppose I feel inadequate compared to other artists who have actually taken an art class, had some artistic training and have been practicing for years.
But art is just one small part of my life, of my interests. I don't know if I should fall back on what I for so long regarded as a hobby, as a career. This leaves me with more options than I want. What do I do after high school? College seems most practical, assuming that the state of the economy gets better in the next 6-8 years. If I get my bachelor's degree, I will definitely invest in obtaining a master's because having that second degree makes a world of a difference in the job market.
Speaking of the job market, I applied to two places within the last week. I already volunteer at Internationalist Books, so I used that as job experience on my resume. I emailed the store manager at Twig (they sell environmentally friendly products) an employment inquiry and a copy of my resume via email and an inquiry at Studio Supplies (an art supply store within walking distance to ibooks) who requested a hard copy of my resume at the store, which gave me a chance to meet at least one of the employees. I suppose if I work for a few years as an employee at say, that art store, I could one day work my way up to manager. However, that would mean staying in Chapel Hill all my life, which I don't want.
I want to travel, I want to experience different cultures and countries. I want to live in San Fran for a while (yes, I am fully aware of how expensive it is), I also want to try to go to college in Asheville NC, maybe spend a few years in Portland Oregon. Then visit Sweden for maybe a month and later in life, retire in Canada. Oh, and visit Seattle of course.
My career options are as follows: Freelance photographer, journalist (even though newspapers are becoming obsolete), news/radio broadcaster, high school art teacher, art gallery owner (rent out spaces), tattoo/piercing artist, design political/comical t-shirts etc, open up a community center/bookstore (basically be the next bob sheldon), club owner, documentary filmmaker, own a cd/record store (even though mp3s are more popular :P) etc.
I no longer feel like writing. BUT LIFE'S HARD, SO SUCK IT UP. ahem...
Anyway, I wish I was better at song writing. Maybe I just need more inspiration. Oh, bill S709 was passed a few days ago, so hydraulic fracking is now legal in our region. fucking bastards. Offshore drilling off the coast of NC might also become legal if bills S728 (i think?) passes. I HATE CORPORATISM. I HATE REPUBLICANS. GO. FUCKING. DIE.
Wow, my thoughts aren't really organized. I'm just very tired at the moment. I need to start listening to the males' punk bands' female counterparts. It's a shame that the only punk bands I can think of with prominent females off the top of my head are the distillers and bikini kill :(
Another thing I've been thinking about, is just how important are human relations, really? Part of me likes solidarity because I can think inside my own head a lot more which is nice, but what is even better, is to have someone think thoughts out loud and share different ideas with you. To collaborate. What I lack, at the moment, is someone who I can have deep conversation with. Well... I have a few people that if I wanted to, I could discuss topics on a deeper level of thinking, with them... but I want a person who will spontaneously go lay in the grass of some remote field only to star gaze and have an existential or naturalistic conversation. I want to share my thoughts and ideas with people, but for varies reasons I haven't done so in months. People who can look past the petty things that this plastic jungle can offer, and appreciate life for what is real and true, are the ones that I seek. Sadly, there are fewer than I would like. Or perhaps there are many, but they are just hidden amongst a sea of materialistic, self-absorbed, brainwashed, consumerist, conformist  morons who wouldn't dare think for themselves for once. And what's worse, is that those few people, or many i suppose, sometimes have the worst personalities making it hard to stomach them as a whole.
Fuck, I can't articulate my thoughts well enough to continue this blog post. It was poorly ...fuck i can't even think of a goddamn adjective to describe the way i structured this shit.... i'm so tired.... farewell.

Inner Conflict

I seem to be asking myself  "What the hell is wrong with you!?" so very very often. I'm in love with something I can never have. Something I did have. Which makes it all the worse because everything I do reminds me of it. It emerges in my dreams constantly and follows me around like my shadow. It, when I discovered it, was so so different than what I was, what I wanted. As I grew to appreciate this thing, I began to fall in love with it more than I expected. It's every imperfection was perfect in that it made it unique. But now, I find that this something is far more special than I thought. I find myself changing in the exact same direction as it is. It is extraordinarily rare for two things to change, both at the same rate and to the same degree in the same direction. Most compatible, am I with this dismissed thing. If I could find it and bring it back and show it all that is has missed by being lost, I think it would benefit. But maybe it's selfish to think that it might for some reason be better off not forgotten.  I think I've gone mad with paranoia. I wear a frown and confused eyes which do not suit me. Being truly infatuated with this idea or thing, it was never a doubt in my mind, and in my mind, being truly in attracted with something means you never stop being so. Maybe you forget about it, but the instant that you do remember, even for a second, you understand again just how much you miss it. How much it meant and how much it will always mean for being such a large role in your identity. If ever there was an opportunity for me to express my gratitude to it, I would jump at the chance. But I think that ship has long since sailed and left me standing at the dock. I'm deeply saddened by this, so now all I can do is hope that in time my memory will fade and it will lose all of it's importance in my life. Or perhaps it was never that important at all. No, I don't think it's worth anything now. Maybe then, but then is the past and now I am far from the stage where I'd ever want to retrace those steps. Those steps are now swept over with a tree limb.. and... that made no sense. No, it did, you just have to be in my head to understand it, I suppose.

Inadequate.

 Here's me about to be an idiot. Oh well :)

Just for a second I find myself no longer thinking about it. Completely recovered and no longer addicted to that lifestyle. But then today I realize how badly I want it. It's edgy, talented, prolific, comforting, it's got a slight hint of danger, it unleashes an abundance of adrenaline, it has no boundaries and it's absolutely perfect. It satisfies all of my cravings and even more, that until I was reintroduced to that lifestyle, I didn't even know I had. So here I am, thinking that either I have to rid the world of this lifestyle so that thinking about it constantly does not force me to kill myself in a violent rage or that I have to learn that I am not dependent on this lifestyle and can live a happy and fulfilling life sober. I was fine today, in fact, I was great today. Only thought about it once as I looked upon a trigger image, but then, I saw the lifestyle itself in all it's alluring glory and currently, it is consuming my every thought. I want to burn it and watch every last ounce of it smolder into an unforgiving fire where it can never trace its way back to me again. And yet, I can't help but imagine how amazing life would be with it. How much my creativity would spike, how much more spontaneous life would be, how much greater and vivid the passion for life might be. I can almost taste it, or feel it soaring through my veins sometimes. Sometimes I feel like I might die without it, like it was the only thing that I ever felt encouraged my existence. But this is insane. I could have lived a perfectly normal, happy life if I had never even put myself in the position to get acquainted with such a drug. But now that I have, it still to this day holds a heavy power over me. The rush of inhaling the tantalizing substances and the aromas that soothe the air. The hunger for the rush of exertion then the blissfully content incline that follows lasts for days and the moments enjoyed with such a powerful lifestyle can be recounted over and over. Now I'm stuck. I know I shouldn't even think about it, but it's impossible not to. It's driving me to insanity faster than I ever thought possible and it's all I can do to keep somewhat stable in the eyes of others. To not draw attention to the fact that I'm slowly getting closer to cracking and impulsively taking regrettable actions. I miss it. I still love it. I don't think I'll ever stop. Lifestyle.

The Writings of an Insomniac

So it's almost 5am and I can't sleep, so here I shall rant about all the things that keep me up on a night such as this one. First of all, I am sick of males opening doors for me because they think they have to. I'm tired of guys offering to pay for my shit but they don't even think to offer to pay for their other friend who happens to be a guy. I'm sick of getting texts at odd hours of the night from random ass 20 year old guys who are obviously desperate to get fucked and assume that high school girls are interested in getting an STD before they graduate. I'm tired of going to concerts and being the only girl at the show who doesn't fucking work at the club. I'm tired of not having females friends who have decent taste in music. I'm tired of guys saying that of course I play bass because a girl is a lot less likely to succeed at playing electric guitar in a band. I'm tired of guys that I'm friends with who have girlfriends, thinking that they can get somewhere that is completely off-limits. I'm sick of guys randomly asking me to "hook up" at 1am when I've only ever said two words to them in my entire life. AND I AM FUCKING TIRED OF NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP AT 5AM.
I hate that I suck at creating art. I hate that I suck at writing poetry. I hate that I suck at making music. I hate that I suck at everything I try to do because no matter how good I am at something, I'm always going to compare myself to someone else who has been doing that something their entire life, then I end up feeling like a failure and wanting to just give up. I'm scared of becoming an adult. I'm scared that I'll pick a major and spend 4 years in college and thousands of dollars just to figure out that I suck at everything and there's no point in me going to college because I couldn't possibly get a job much less a successful career and I'll end up homeless and living out of a cardboard box. Or that I'll decide to screw college altogether, hitchhike to san fran and live in a squat house then one day realize I completely hate that lifestyle and now I've wasted all that time and can't find a new one. I'm scared that I'll never be able to settle down because I'll never be satisfied or that I'll settle down without thinking things through first and then have committed to a life with a husband that I hate and a bunch of kids that I secretly want to murder. Yeah that's it. And I'm still not tired.