A mystery I can't uncover...

I am increasingly finding myself in the unfavorable position of loathing almost everything and everyone. These days, it takes nothing less than a miracle to make me smile, and I don't really know why that is. Perhaps I am beginning to realize that I have little to nothing in common with a large majority of my friends - they are the people I thought I wanted to be like until I realized I wanted to be like myself again, and now I am finding it difficult to get back to that position. However, that's a little unfair to them and also to me, because it is my firm belief that deep down, we all have pretty similar wants and dreams and ideals and stuff, we just mask them with our personalities. I think I'm discovering though that I've been trying for the three and a half years I've been at KSU to be someone I'm not and to try and develop good friendships with those who want me to be that person who is so unlike me while I have pushed away many who might have actually appreciated me more (those people who read this probably know who they are).

Regardless of all of that, I am really damned pissed off. I want my car back so that I can escape from my apartment when I want. I want to be able to clean my apartment and have it stay clean for awhile instead of being dirty again in half an hour. I want to get off my ass and do something about my life and stop using my car and my dirty apartment and my friends as an excuse. I know that my life is what I make of it, and I think I've gotten into the distructive habit of making excuses for myself when things don't work out the way I wanted (and the way they very feasably could, given a small amount of effort on my part.)

For now though, I want to play that song with the line "I hate you, fuck you, leave me alone" and close my door and turn off my phones and not have anyone bother me until I can get over whatever this funk is that I'm under. I can't wait to go home to Olathe tomorrow. Can't. Fucking. Wait. I'm going to see Shaun of the Dead if I have to kill somebody, steal their car, and run from their undead zombie corpse as they try to feast on my increasingly wasted brains.

In closing, I offer you a line that I read from my McSweeney's Quarterly Concern, Issue 14, which I recieved in the mail today. It is from a letter by an Irish man named Timothy McSweeney who the editor (Dave Eggers) met during a reading in Ireland after asking if there were any McSweeney's in the audience, which may sound like a random question, but as McSweeney's is the name of his publishing company and as McSweeney's is an Irish name and as he speaking to a group of Irish people, the question made quite a bit of sense. Mr. McSweeney has begun contributing to the endeavors of the publishing company bearing his name by submitting a letter to us, the readers of McSweeney's. I found the following statement he made about himself incredibly applicable to my own life. I have shared it with Kyle, and now I will share it with you. Have a good night:

"You see, I was one of those unfortunate children who right up to Leaving Certificate [Read: high school graduation] at age seventeen found school too easy and had to make a painful adjustment as an adult when most of the others caught up with me and passed me by."