Sinister: It's a nice night for a sulk...which sucks for you guys

[Matthew Henderson]

********WARNING!!! THIS POST IS WHINY!!!  PLEASE SKIP!!!!**************

Oh my dear stars.

It's 3 am, which isn't too late I guess, but it feels later.  I've been 
debating whether I should go to class in the morning or not.

I've been feeling very disconnected recently.  This empty sort of depression 
has been with me a for a few days now.  I don't like it.  If I were to be 
depressed about a girl, it would be different.  There would be something 
there.  Either the hope of her noticing me, or the extreme pain of losing 
her.  It would even be better if I were nervous about a test, or upset about 
a bad grade.  Or about a job, or about something.  Anything at all.  But 
what keeps me up nights now?  What drives me to write to 1500 people this 
late at night?  Nothing.  Nothing at all.  I read post after post from you 
lot night after night.  Many are humorous and fun, like Ken Chu's strange 
brand of vulgar wit.  Or Laura Llew's...Llewness (Whom, much to her dismay 
and disgust, will soon find me standing outside her home, with an acoustic 
guitar, playing "hesitating beauty" with slightly altered lyrics).  Then 
there are those beautiful ones, such as Kirsten's brief glimpse into a 
strange world I know nothing of.  But a goodly amount deals with personal 
tragedies/triumphs involving finding beautiful moments in things, getting a 
new job, losing a job and cleaning, and especially pining for a boy/girl, 
getting the boy/girl, or losing the boy/girl.  I have none of this.  None of 
it at all.  I have no prospects for a significant other of any kind, I'm not 
very close to any of my friends, I'm not worried about a job, School is set 
for the next several years, etc...  There is nothing at all interesting in 
life.  Days drift on and on, following each other in this endless parade of 
mundanity.  School, work, home, clean, sleep, school, work, home, clean, 
etc...  I have nothing really to look forward to, nothing to really mull 
over now, and no end in sight.  I really can't stand it.  But I can't put my 
finger on what the problem really is.  I don't know what to do.  I can't 
come up with a solution if there isn't really a problem.  I stay up late at 
night, smoking cigarettes in my bed and listening to music, and thinking 
about nothing.  I have nothing to think about, nothing to fight for, nothing 
cry about, nothing to pine for.  I just feel empty.

This must be the worst kind of depression.  Not even music can pull me out 
of this.  If I were to be dumped, I could listen to some trembling blue 
stars or something.  Loss of a loved one, there's plenty of music for that.  
But what about utter nothingness?  No feelings about anything whatsoever, 
other than the dread of having go through yet another awful day.

Sorry to bother you all with this, I don't like to annoy people.  But does 
anyone else ever feel this way?  Or is this just self-loathing wankery?

I will say the two bright spots of today.  I finally received (after a few 
months) the Camera Obscura LP.  I was amazed at how high quality the vinyl 
was.  So thick, like they really cared.  Someone give someone in that band a 
good pat on the back for that.

Also, the magazine on banchory is absolutely excellent.  It's a must have.

Again, I apologize for the inconvenience.  I wouldn't feel so bad about 
cluttering up your mailbox if mine was cluttered up all the time with 
information on how to get an international drivers license, or a certain 
percent off widgets.  Mostly from a girl named "J A N E T"

-Matt

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