christ666's Diaryland Diary

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Empyrean

I've returned from yet another enjoyable trip from the Gorge. After weeks of an apparent lack of excitement, the element finally caught up with me upon viewing the canyon, seeing the tents, and smelling that undeniable scent of cannabis. Not that I smoke, but just certain arousals of sensations can make a person smile. Starla seemed to enjoy herself, although she believes she might not go again. Since I didn't go this previous year, it was nice to remember what it was I enjoyed so much about the trip. The scenery is still as beautiful as ever.

The unknowable fear and crippling emotions have begun to become more frequent but less severe, if that makes sense. It's as if my psyche has become undecisive or forgetful of whatever resolution or content that my mind has manifested, and is at a constant flip-flop of feelings. My sister advised an increase in my medication dosage, but I've lost my libido enough as it is.

I had dinner with my mother the other day. It was a lot of fun. There's this bond between my mother and I that I'm fortunate enough to get to experience, considering a lot of sons don't get to have such a relationship. We made each other laugh a lot, and enjoyed a night cap of looking through her grandmother's old sewing machine with all it's little antique surprises inside the drawers.

Starla is still patient of my psychological problems, which makes this whole thing so much more bearable. I can't imagine how I'd go through this if she couldn't take it. But she's been a fucking trooper, being there for me, and reassuring me that I deserve my happiness. She truly is an incredible woman.

I've begun taking music another serious thought by contemplating doing two different music demos, each with a concept story of its own. Again, with my procrastination it makes it hard to see these little musings as a reality, but I hope to one day find the motivation to bring out my creativity once more.

I don't feel impressive anymore. I had a state of mind before where I felt that I always had some sort of creative outlet that I could use to show off whatever release from mediocrity I had. But as the days pass and I slip into the routine of adulthood (work, errands, sleep), I lose that ability to grasp the hope that I'm special. I know there's nothing wrong with being normal, but when you're depressed you selfishly want to look for things to brag about. As of now, I have nothing. I hope to remedy that with this new short film, but I really need to come to terms with the fact that everyone has "average joe" moments, and not everyone needs to be impressive.

I want to remember what it was like to have the future to look forward to, and not have it be around the corner, waiting to trap you into it's palms. I'm only twenty two, and I see the end of the world coming tomorrow. Why am I in such a rush? What do I need to accomplish? And therin provokes the crisis.

I need to get some more sleep. One more hour of work to go.

5:48 a.m. - 2008-09-05

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