venting and stuff.

In my life I have vastly under appreciated the importance of discipline. Obviously.

I always figured that there was an ideal life I should be living, and that it was just a matter of lining up my life accordingly. Turns out to be quite a backward way of doing it.

I see now that for me, what's more important is to see the life I'm living now, and just seeking to do bits of better, improving it here and there slowly but surely, until I just wake up and realize I'm living the ideal life.
I just need to get on with it; that here and there stuff. I also need to work out what that here and there stuff is. It doesn't even need to be complicated or grandiose,  or fancy. It just needs to be something that's in front of me, that I can enjoy and work hard at. Uni works sometimes.
I need a fucking job. Its disheartening how difficult I'm finding it to get one. Not just because of how little responses I'm receiving but also just how out my depth I feel. Its like my resume must say 'Is a lazy dick' on it or something. I just can't put a finger on why I'm not getting any calls and its pissing me off. I'm thinking its probably mostly hours and uni and what not.
But still! Whys it so hard? Its got me anxious.



This is all pretty frustrating to be honest. There's personal things going on to that are just a fucking worldton of bullshit. Stuff that isn't anyone's fault either. Its just how a few coins have landed and they really suck some serious ass. And its pretty full on and complicated so its not like I can talk to anyone about it either. Not here in Ballarat anyways, and not face to face. And there's no way I could really lay this out if it weren't face to face and with someone that knew me well, and whose judgement I trusted. Its massively debilitating.

I'm at a place in my life that is just grossly frustrating and infuriating. I'm furious at myself for how much I overestimated myself. I'm just in this awkward life that isn't me in the slightest, and its just so super duper claustrophobic. I cant breath sometimes.
I think I'm less depressed about it than I was. I've come to terms of sorts with this suffocation I wrought upon myself.

This blog has become a diary in which to vent. I'm sorry if anyone reads this, I just have nothing else at the moment, so if I don't write here, it'll just bottle up even more and come out in some dangerous way.

So dark. So macarbe. Makes me feel so lame. I've been feeling pretty lame for a long time now actually. I'm just weaksauce. How pussy is that?/
I just need to find one thing, something useful, something challenging, something that makes at least some money, that I can just do.
Enough! I tire of my own bleargh.