You know, sometimes I feel like my life peaked around 1994-1995, and since then it hasn't been worth it. I still had a fair bit of optimism but had lost most the naivety, I wasn't yet as cynical about the world or people. I still believed very much in love, even though it hadn't worked out for myraleemarshall and I. I still thought I would really make a difference in some way. I was still a bit naive, because I was looking forward to life and thought it'd be something of an adventure. I was surrounded by a solid group of friends, which hadn't started to fragment. I had some kind of spark - there was something there. I was more creative, I had more energy, I was more spontaneous... Now... eh... I feel boring and dull. I seem to have completely lost my mojo for being creative, I haven't written anything in months and can't seem to find the energy nor the inspiration. The impulse to do random things doesn't strike me anymore. Almost nothing really excites me, and most of the things that I used to be into don't hold my interest. I have stacks of unread books that I feel like I should want to read, but never seem to pick up. Or I'll pick them up, flip the pages listlessly,and put them back down. Shelves of videos I never bother to watch. When I make myself go out, like going to Ralph's last Friday, I end up just going home after a couple of hours since I feel like I don't belong anywhere. I feel like an outsider everywhere. I can't say that I'm unhappy, I don't think I am. But I'm really not sure what is means to be happy or unhappy. There are moments when I think I'm happy, but they're just moments. It seems like all the good stories, all the really fun times, took place 10 years ago. Very little since then seems noteworthy. Everything is a kind of uniform grey - days, weeks, months, all run together. It is funny how some things trigger memories. Especially music. Tonight I was listening to Tori Amos's 'Tales of a Librarian' in the car as I drove home. A number of the songs are from Little Earthquakes, which came out in 1992. I started listening it to it probably sometime in 1993 and it was, and is, one of my favorite albums. But hearing the songs again this time brought back a flood of old memories - but even though they were good memories it made me cry, because of the contrast to life now. It left me feeling fairly miserable. Is this all there is for, most likely, the next few decades? If so, why the hell should I care about anything? The world just keeps spiraling down the drain anyway. Maybe it is just the holidays already having me on edge... I don't know. Why should I be any different from any other cog? Maybe I just need my daily soma.