Start

I'm smoking cigarettes like a fiend. As soon as I'm done with one, I feel the urge to smoke another. It's not the nicotine, it's the act of smoking. It's exhilarating. It keeps momentum going, and keeps me from doing what I should be. Namely, working on my project on Catharist literacy. It's the last thing I have to do before I graduate and I'm putting it off in my typical fashion of putting off the one thing I should be doing, because once it's done I'm not sure what I'll do after that.

I'm thinking of everything but Catharism. I'm contemplating joining a Requiem LARP. I'm thinking about The Book of the New Sun, and how it's over-hyped pseudo-philosophical sci-fi that disgusts me. I'm wondering how I'll pay my bills soon. I'm worry about grad school, but not enough to actually encourage my action along those routes.

And I'm wondering, oh I'm wondering, why I bothered to make this blog. I know that I've felt the need to write recently, but I've yet to write anything beyond a cursory examination of my thoughts. Fiction isn't coming, my passion has been unlit for a while, and if I can't even put together a paper I'm satisfied with then what hope do I have to create something I consider worthwhile ruminations.

I've almost deleted the last few paragraphs several times. This blog doesn't have legs, yet. It doesn't have a focus. It lacks definition. And this rambling self-examination is only delaying the inevitable of developing them. But I can only write what I know, and what I know better than anything else my dear reader, is the incredible power of rage and angst. This post seems ridden with angst. But for fuck's sake I'm considering going to a Requiem LARP. Angst is the name of the game.