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Jun. 29th, 2015 10:17 amI moved last Wednesday, so about five days ago.
I had one of my friends help me with the furniture. He brought his old truck and we were able to do it in only one load. He liked my old place, and he actually used to live in the apartment complex that I moved to about ten years ago. Overall, he was a great help.
My father brought a desk the next morning. I showed him some of my apartment, and he talked about my mother a bit. That was good; I felt that he had just forgotten about her, but fortunately he didn't. I'm not terribly angry at him anymore.
There is no internet at my place. That is good, because the internet is more or less a giant distraction. I go to the university every day to use their wi-fi, and I spend about an hour or so on there. It helps me stay out of my apartment a bit more. A lot of the sites that I used to go to are blocked, but that is okay because they were garbage sites that just made me jaded and depressed. I feel a little bit more optimistic about the future now.
I spend about an hour a day, sometimes more, writing poems and revising them. I write about ten pages of poems a day. I get the feeling that they suck (or at least most of them do), and they are mostly prose poems, but at least I'm putting in a sincere effort to have a constructive hobby. I've also been drawing, and reading of course. It was really fucking hot yesterday, though (like, 110 degrees) and as such I could barely do anything.
Living in the apartment is different. It is better because I have complete control over what goes on, and I don't have to deal with anyone's crap, but at the same time I don't have anyone to even casually talk to and I get slightly lonely. But it isn't as bad as it used to be; I think that I am getting used to it. Instead of feeling that all-consuming anxiety that would eat at me and just fester, now I just have this antsy, angry feeling that I should do something with myself, but can't. I prefer that feeling more than the anxiety.
I actually went to a bar on Saturday because I felt lonely. I didn't get drunk, though. I was approachable enough that a young woman talked to me, which was great. I felt better about myself after that; I'm used to people thinking that I'm weird, but perhaps I'm really just not. I try to be normal, at least. It wasn't like I prayed to God to make me a special snowflake.
I'm not drinking as much. Just don't get as much satisfaction from beer as I used to. Although I will probably still drink for a while; just less of it.
Well, that is it for now.
I had one of my friends help me with the furniture. He brought his old truck and we were able to do it in only one load. He liked my old place, and he actually used to live in the apartment complex that I moved to about ten years ago. Overall, he was a great help.
My father brought a desk the next morning. I showed him some of my apartment, and he talked about my mother a bit. That was good; I felt that he had just forgotten about her, but fortunately he didn't. I'm not terribly angry at him anymore.
There is no internet at my place. That is good, because the internet is more or less a giant distraction. I go to the university every day to use their wi-fi, and I spend about an hour or so on there. It helps me stay out of my apartment a bit more. A lot of the sites that I used to go to are blocked, but that is okay because they were garbage sites that just made me jaded and depressed. I feel a little bit more optimistic about the future now.
I spend about an hour a day, sometimes more, writing poems and revising them. I write about ten pages of poems a day. I get the feeling that they suck (or at least most of them do), and they are mostly prose poems, but at least I'm putting in a sincere effort to have a constructive hobby. I've also been drawing, and reading of course. It was really fucking hot yesterday, though (like, 110 degrees) and as such I could barely do anything.
Living in the apartment is different. It is better because I have complete control over what goes on, and I don't have to deal with anyone's crap, but at the same time I don't have anyone to even casually talk to and I get slightly lonely. But it isn't as bad as it used to be; I think that I am getting used to it. Instead of feeling that all-consuming anxiety that would eat at me and just fester, now I just have this antsy, angry feeling that I should do something with myself, but can't. I prefer that feeling more than the anxiety.
I actually went to a bar on Saturday because I felt lonely. I didn't get drunk, though. I was approachable enough that a young woman talked to me, which was great. I felt better about myself after that; I'm used to people thinking that I'm weird, but perhaps I'm really just not. I try to be normal, at least. It wasn't like I prayed to God to make me a special snowflake.
I'm not drinking as much. Just don't get as much satisfaction from beer as I used to. Although I will probably still drink for a while; just less of it.
Well, that is it for now.
