Who am I even writing for anymore?

The curry had an off taste and the rice was flavored with shrimp. I had planned to walk to the grocery store, but I'll end up driving. Everything that seemed so nice in my head loses momentum before it begins. My cowardice keeps me from new friends and my arrogance offends the old ones, until all I am left with is Longhorn and Fallen Ear; the assertive few whose advances I am too lazy to rebuff and whose friendships are worth my time only because my time is worth so little. I am intimidated by the empty time stretched out before me like a desert, but each time I mount a dune I refuse to take the time to find my direction.

Well, that's stupid.

I'm going to the store.

Still not walking, though.

But who is the monster?

I tried so long to draw a feeling from the empty eyes, and failed.
I suspect an act; an excuse; a justification; maybe just confusion and an unwillingness to change course.
I thought so long about declining like a gentleman, but I know you have no respect for self-sacrifice. You respect  conquerers and thieves.
And maybe I shouldn't have, for my own peace.
And maybe I shouldn't have for yours.
But if it was a mistake, it was the best mistake I ever made;
Any emptiness I may feel
(What else is new?)
Is worth it for the long moments of comfort and peace,
For the racing heart that has answered only hills for so long,
For the instant of forgetting like a white sleep,
For the hazy high that nothing else has given me or could.
So for all my doubts and internal arguments,
For all that I debated what qualifies for coercion
(And let's be honest, offering choice of clothing is hardly a sign of reluctance),
I am unable to generate regret.
Fortunately for me, I doubt it will be necessary.
You would probably consider it a weakness.

Down

The metaphors for depression are many; for myself I find the visual ones are best: A veil drawn across the eyes, casting shadow on the world; everything made of paper, so thin and empty and delicate; like drawing back deep into a cave, until the light of day is nothing but a wavering pinprick like the last star in the sky. See that? Stacked metaphors. Y'all can't touch this.

I loathe my reflex to be absurd. It's supposed to be a sort of humility, or at least seem that way; it's a way to disguise my arrogance by pretending it is a parody. I'm sure it can be linked to my intellectual insecurity, the one that comes bundled with my intellect. I remember my old counselor telling me I had all my eggs in one basket. That may have been so, and probably still is, but this particular basket was my best shot; I think I made the right choice. I suppose some investment into general likability wouldn't have hurt.

It has been suggested that my viewpoints, political and otherwise, are held in order to excuse or extol my personal weaknesses and strengths, respectively. This is a theory which deserves very careful and prolonged consideration. Thank goodness I haven't the time. It is more likely by far that I will apply it to others and their actions, continuing my "habit of over-intellectualizing." It is, in retrospect, a very obvious theory; but it nags me. It is what a professor of mine refers to repeatedly as "a splinter in your mind."

I ate far too much today. I may have an eating problem. For most of my week I eat a moderately healthy vegetarian diet; that is not the problem. The problem is snacks and free food. When someone has candy or some other distributable snack, I will either a) not know them particularly well and so ignore it, or b) know them well enough to half-jokingly make an obvious attempt at stealing it, thereafter abashedly accepting their extended offer. There is no middle ground; I can't bring myself to ask. It may be my pride; it may be that I am ashamed to covet food so much. I frequently swipe food from an unguarded snack cart at work. Whenever there is free food by the elevators, I take too much. It is a bad situation and it works against my otherwise successful attempts at a healthy lifestyle. It's embarrassing, too. I suppose there is a method I could use to learn to strengthen my resolve; I could purchase some of my favorite candy and then give it away to people, keeping none for myself. Come to think of it, that would probably make me some friends, too, and maybe make up a bit for my gluttony.

I feel a bit better.