I’m just … acutely aware of how hollow a human I am. Even my behavior is just … a decent emulation of characters from movies or books. I learned social skills from a television set.
Over-analysis has yielded me good results; historically ................... I’m lying through my teeth here. A cursory glance backwards and I’m certain every good thing I ever did was impulsive.
I realize that nobody is in control of anything, not even their own mind … just their impulses … who am I to cut the last string and be impulsive? Earlier I had an impulse to punch a glass window and smash a guy’s trachea. They all seem to be negative impulses.
Met a girl. The right music, books, movies, looks. The right attitude. An attitude. But not a bitchy one. So nice to be around. I find myself doing nice things for no reason. It's even possible to bond as humans and not objectify, act like myself, act like a real human myself. Two humans. None of the cliches.
She ain't single. (At least, I don't think she is.)
They never are, are they?
And I sit around, my left brain debating my right. Force the issue, make a move, sabotage, manipulate. Do whatever it takes. Time's slipping by. No guts no glory, all's fair. But that's what you do to objects not other humans. Fuck my life ... I respect another human for once.
It's the full moon. All week basically, we're a few days deep and it'll wane soon.
I never feel like I've lost control on full moons. But this month I do.
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