#WITH THE EXCEPTION of the lonely genius shit that Singed planted in his head

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Come on, you know you want to, give us the character bingo for Viktor.

don't mind if i doooo

[americanfad]

announcement: i am going to space

I am waiting for the switch to flip. For all the gears to give a satisfying click as they set into place. The moment of mental clarity -- the moment of purpose -- I am waiting for it. Goddard was in a tree, he looked at the sky, realized that he wanted to go to mars, and spent his entire life tirelessly devoting himself to the pursuit of rockets and spacetravel. He had a passion and a direction from a young age.

Yet here we are. Comparatively gifted with a talented mind, yet bereft of the drive that Goddard had. I have interests and inclinations, but I am at best a dilettante. I am not exceptional at any one thing (except, maybe, this writing thing, which I believe i could get better at and perfect with time; and I seem to be a pretty good speaker also, another art that I could perfect) the problem is that even with these considerable talents, I only have an awareness of the talent and not the direction where I would like to devote that talent. I need guidance, but I don't think I've ever had a guide. The concept seems bizarre. I am really paranoid, and I can hardly imagine someone trying to guide me out of selfless intentions; I would probably do my best to sabotage their goodwill with my own paranoia.

I don't know what this is that I'm spilling. These words make no sense. They are no good for anyone to read but me. Yet here they are. I have no one else to talk to except for one, very basic text application on my computer. It allows me to talk to myself in a non-audible way (I wouldn't want to disturb my roommates). This state feels so natural. I could truly sit here and write for hours and just continue putting thoughts down if I only had some direction to take all of this. I suppose sometimes it doesn't feel that great to just write about myself, my struggles, or at least I can't shake the feeling that I just keep writing the same thing over and over again. Who would want to read this weird little neurotic game that I play with myself? There is no plot, there is no drama. The only character is me because I really have no close relationships or contacts with anyone. My phone was just off for six hours and I didn't miss it. In fact, I feel refreshed for having not had it on. I wish I could continue without it. I only turned it back on as a practical measure: it's the only alarm that I have. Should I just get rid of it? Its draining effect on me....should i revert to something more simple? I thought I was giving myself a gift when I gave myself a smart phone. But it feels like an obsession, and realistically, it's hard to see how reading the news in bed for two hours, watching porn and playing mobile games really benefit me that much. I do need to check my email frequently, groupme, constant communication with classmates, profs, etc. In the professional world...I don't know. I feel like i could work around it. I work around a lot of things.

How did I ever get so isolated? It seems strange and unnatural. I feel really powerless to get out of this situation because I feel conflicting desires. On one hand the desire for natural human relationships, on the other hand a suspicion of these relationships. I have had some unhealthy ones. I don't really remember the last relationship, friendship or otherwise, that I was just really satisfied with. They all seem to have some kind of draining effect on me, to subtract something from my life, my time. It's much easier to justify being a piece of shit (skipping school, drinking, smoking) when I have peers to reinforce this behavior. So I feel like, in this fantasy world where i am just a lone genius working to better himself, other people are just a distraction. But like any human being on earth, I crave relationships. This is one of those topics that I am tired of dwelling on...but it does consume my thoughts. I really have gotten to such a hopeless point that all I can do is laugh at the absurdity of it. The real strangeness is that someone in my position, young, talented, pretty nice, good looking could be more than just introverted, more than just a stay-at-home person, but be could actually be utterly alone. My human interaction today was limited to my coworkers, which ended as soon as I walked out of the door. I had a five text message (three from me, two from her) conversation with Alex that went no where. I invited her to hang out and she declined. But like the dog chasing his tail what the hell would I have even done with her if I caught her? It's just this hilarious charade. I don't even know the first step of forming a meaningful healthy relationship. Maybe I do need religion. I mean, I KNOW I need religion I'm just not compatible with the whole God thing. I don't want to be devoted to anything like that. I'm down with feeling better and more purposeful about my relationship to the universe, but ...

You know what's depressing? Piles of unfinished projects. I can almost put myself in the exact state of mind when I first caught the bug, when I first read some article or found something in a book and decided "This is it! I'm going to start making/doing/growing XYZ. But then, three months later, the thing is half made, half done, or half dead. It's depressing but I literally can only laugh at the absurdity of this right now. I am so bad at living life. How am I surviving right now? What are my prospects for the future? Literally what could I even accomplish. Dead plants, broken dreams. Half-read books (although I'm better at that than most of the shit I do), half-cleaned, half-cooked, half-assed. Food dreams spoiling in the fridge, compost bin that is itself turning into compost. I am the person that Scientology warns you about. You'd better stay away from me, for I am "oblivion," fear me, Thetan pussies. I am okay with my human form while you flee from it. You should be afraid of me because I have learned to harness my engrams, not run away from them. My engrams, my little buried fears that burn in my skull constantly and taunt every thought and feeling that i have are a part of me just like my arm and they aren't going anywhere. You won't take them away from me. I'll use them to exert emotional power over you. That is the power of oblivion.

My head...what the actual fuck? Is this clarity? It feels like all of this heat is swirling around. I had a very beautiful moment when I was biking (walking ) home from swherever today. I had this really long walk because i got a flat tire. But i refused to look at my phone. it was off. and i just felt...truly there. i felt really present and tried to attend to all of the things around me as i just took in and absorbed the elements of this unusually beautiful day. i don't understand my desires. i don't understand my inclinations or the things that push me to act. if i could figure out a way to harness these things, to do more than just ride these waves i would be a lot farther in my life. i often imagine people next to me. in my car i'll look over at my imaginary interlocutor and smile! i 'll laugh or sing at them as if to annoy them with my bad singing. Is that pathetic? it is odd? I need...I want to aim my conversations at somebody. I have all of these things going through me. They just don't have anywhere to go. I hesitate the call this a creative outlet, this is more like a journal. How can i harness my creative energy and my desire to write and turn it into something that 1) scratches the itch 2) is actually entertaining/fun to read 3) doesn't feel like a chore ...i don't have any other qualifications. I just feel. Every time i talk to a person a feel a buildup of discomfort. I feel a cloud of just weirdness. Of not really understanding and not really being understood and of being very unsure of how to move forward. I know i am strange and I am proud of this weird little thing I have going but...what? I can't even imagine myself going out there and talking to someone. The idea seems perfectly hilarious.

I need a therapist.

Another thought: your Goddard moment: get this out. This thing you feel that can only be expresed through writing, you are searching for the way to express it. Well, get it out. Spend your life, spend your free moments, doing everything you can to master this art so that you can one day get this out.