My Current State

To start off with, how about a little theme music?

Life is weird, which can occasionally be interesting, but is mostly off putting. Which, in a way, is comforting. Because you know there's gotta be someone else out there that is as equally apathetic and generally disinterested in the current state of, well, everything as you are. Safety in numbers.

Speaking of numbers.

It takes roughly 2,500 miles to go before you find love again. At least, it does for me. My current state is rather far away from anything that remotely looks like my girlfriend. Again, mostly off putting.

5 minutes away from my computer is the radius my normal everyday world extends out from. On an average weekly basis, I do not travel outside of that line, unless it's for groceries or something I probably don't need to really be spending money on but decided to anyways because sitting in a dorm with the same boxes you unpacked your life from 3 weeks ago gets boring. New boxes are always exciting.

I love the number 7 and I don't like my name. Bit of an irony there considering I hate numbers and love writing. The world is full of little find mucks. I suppose I don't like numbers because I feel like they impose some sort of unforeseen will upon everything. Somehow, my attempts to build meaningless lists of made up creatures and races and languages does not fall into this same category of control, but I'm hypocritical.

Example.

I hate power but think I'd be the best to use it. I think poor of myself, but like attention. This is not a new development for any human really, but I do my best to attempt to set new standards of such hypocrisies. Juries still out though.

Back to math.

The last 4 days I've been measuring my life in increments 6 minute 33 second cycles. It's the length of this one song I've been listening to. Over. And over. And over again. It's pretty catchy (apparently). My roommate informed me that I've been singing it almost every 6 minutes and 33 seconds I've been spending in my room. For the viewers at home, that roughly equates to 200 song cycles where my roommate has had to endure my (slightly) off tune whistles as I let the song run on YouTube whilst I'm doing something else. Isn't math fun?

More math.

1 am is roughly the time I get to bed each night. I could tell you its because of my college workload, my homework, that I'm actually doing something.

I'm not. I just don't want to. I would rather stay awake longer and remember than go to sleep and forget just that much more of a life I could have remembered. Last Week's Alcohol continues to play in my head, in those 6 minute 33 second cycles, as the clock in the corner of my laptop slowly marches forward to later in the night.

It gives me a sort of satisfaction being up when no one else is. A quiet calm if you will. Like riding my bike in the rain across campus listening to Killswitch Engage's song "My Curse." Good times. Being alone at a party, and just watching the conversations slowly get more drunk as the people empty themselves. There's a sort of satisfaction to that I like.

I'm on my fifth run through of that 6 minute 33 cycle right now. Feel free to do the math.

There's just shy of 7 billion people on this planet, but I'm the only one really. That's the hypocrisy of subjectivity right there. Surrounded by other loners pretending not to be. It's hard to cope with that fact as you get older, but I think I'm adjusting.

I always get to this point and I'm tempted to delete everything. It's shit. It's not actually important (which is true). But again there's that whole secret attention thing, so I don't, and then I put some labels on it which makes this whole thing seem attached and meaningful and profound in some way I don't even know what I mean.

I made cookies tonight. They were delicious. Chocolate chips and dried peppers. I made friends too. I like friends. What'd I'd really like, though, is that if that 2,500 miles would some how just become 6 minutes and 33 seconds. But then we'd all probably die because math got broke.

Oh well.

It's a little over 3 inches from where my mouse is sitting to the publish post button.

And there goes cycle 7.

And I'm still in this state.

Math is stupid.