Things. Things. Things…

Uh. Hmm. Yeah. I think. Think.
“Why don’t you think about God?”
“There are more important things.”
“What is more important?”
“I think about the gray material in the fabric of those…”
“That’s more important than God?”
“The texture in the bricks, and why they’re so rough compared…”
“Is THAT more important than God?”
“The finish on the boards. The pleather on this podium. The light fixtures. The electricity going through them, the cords that feed into them, their source of power. Is there a generator here in the complex, if so, does the school use a public generator or a privately owned one, and if it’s public, who forms the committee to decide that THIS school gets to use it instead of others, and why other schools are taken down… do you see what I’m eventually getting to?”
“Yes. Why do you think about all of these things?”
“That’s how I look at the world!”
“Why look at everything?”
“Life! It’s like a painting! You don’t cut off a corner or focus on a single color! Look at the whole thing.”
The whole thing. Good and bad. Light and dark. It’s all so wonderful, isn’t it? Why focus on just positives? Why focus on just negatives? I see it all as best I can. I look at the world the only way I know how. And I still feel like shit.
No matter what I do or don’t do, I still feel like shit.
“If you wish to be happy, be.” Every time someone quotes Tolstoy, I get sick. I seem to be the only one who knows the quote and can’t control my own… How can I make myself feel happy?
Do things that make me feel good. I do that.
Still feel like shit.
Is this a cry for help? Don’t I have enough of those, already? Won’t it ever stop? Can’t I just, sort of, stop… everything for a while? No art. No music. No writing. No acting. No sitting. No breathing. No feeling. Just a bit? A little fuckin’ bit? Give my mind a break, if only for a moment? I’ll get back to the bullshit and the awesome and the stupid and the funny and the drama and the art and the love and the thoughts… after at least just a moment of rest. Rest. What a horrible thing to think.
Everything that my folks are going through and all I can think about is myself. I do not go back to a negative place in guilt. I just state the thoughts that occured to me within the few seconds I spent before starting the entry. And look at how long it’s taken me. Jesus Christ.
How can I live with myself? Caring about my own mind, so selfishly. What about the people I love, man? They’ve got things. They want rest. Is it to be my burden to guilt myself into thinking and caring for eveyone else who can think and care for themselves? What of my empathy? It’s there. Why am I not so sure now?