so i keep looking for my true love by searching wordpress blogs using not-so-random key words because surely my true love blogs…
unless he is too busy lumber-jacking a sustainable forest….
and then i had a beer and started annoying jenny lawson…again (assuming she reads my sad attempts at getting her attention.) now i hate myself for it and just want to shut everything down. close down every social media outlet i have an account on. who do i think i am? why would anyone want to read my drivel? i’m no different. i’m not special. just another sad cog in a lopsided wheel.
some people, apparently, have long bouts of depression. my moods, however, spin–bob & weave–kick up dust before falling in the mud.
i’m a cancer with a moon in scorpio and scorpio rising. for those of you who aren’t astrology savvy, cancers & scorpios are both water signs, water equals emotion. so i’m like 99% emotion.
i’m not trying to be funny. i am actually tired of me and the stupid things i say and my expecting people to actually listen to me. i tried to tweet today and now i hate myself. read the post from last week about my not being able to play the game. it’s like that. whenever i try to partake of social media, i just feel like a phony.
like the lumberjack comment? is that to get attention? or do i really like lumberjacks? i don’t know. where does the person end and the social media personality begin?
i try to be honest and to be real. but then i also want attention and an audience.
if i tell you that today i had to take a shower because i had gone so long without one that my hair hurt…is that my being honest or showcasing my neurosis? both? like it’s funny because it’s true? or if you can relate, that makes it funny?
i am tired of the narrator inside my head he/she is making my life into a bad tv show.
when i was a kid i thought my big sister was so funny. so i emulated her. i tried so hard to be funny. she wrote funny letters to her friends. so i wrote funny letters to my friends. i would try to be ridiculous on purpose.
what if it is all an act? what if i’m not funny.
but then there are those days, most days, where i crack myself up at least once. so at least one person thinks i’m funny. unless she is laughing at me, not with me…?
i had a snooty teacher in a writer’s workshop once assure me–when i said i did not think i would ever have a very big audience–that i was wrong. she told me i was funny and that funny sells.
in retrospect, i think she may have been insulting me in a very dodgy way.
but i will have the last laugh, rowan buchanan (if that was your real name) because even if i am funny…no one takes me seriously.
(i don’t feel like drawing–so today you get a random collage i did for a digital media class back when i was an art student. i miss being an art student. and i really like buttons.)