It's going to be a friend spring cleaning soon. I'm tired of giving a shit about people that don't give a shit about themselves.

In unrelated news, I didn't win the lottery. Go figure. It's why I don't play.

How often can you look at a situation and know when to walk away? Me, personally, I don't know if I can tell when, I'm happy being unhappy and happy wanting other things, so to me, being in a bad way is just another space in time that I'm justified in complaining about something. I feel like I'm too tired and old to care now, even about my own problems, much less putting my nose into someone's business like I can be apt to do, though I figured I'd mostly killed off that annoying buzz in my head that thinks my opinions are entitled and to be distributed graciously.

Then again, I know I feel crazier than I seem. For every dumb thing that actually gets out of my mouth, there's a million more revolving around my brain with a lot more venom with the thoughts. I'm an asshole. I know I am and I'm fine with playing that part, but I'm not okay with feeling vulnerable. I guess that's when I start to lose my grip on what it is that I want to be like, and though I don't really care how most people think of me, I care about what I think of myself.

The point that I'm trying to make, I guess, is I look around me and see a lot of pointless relationships with beings I barely know that are starting to drag their nails across my skin in unpleasant ways. And try as I might to be disconnected and not care, I do. I try not to put myself first and pretend that it's the happiness elsewhere that gets me warm and fuzzy. Most cases, that's not true. I'm a selfish person, and maybe I just want to be happy, too. But there's a whole spill of words and thoughts I could go into about just avoiding things like that and being the better off in the big picture, though something in my gut pulls me back in, every fucking time.

Anyway, I need to reduce the people and things I care about, even though I found it to be a small number in the first place, turns out that number isn't small enough. And this pine coffin isn't as waterproof as I thought.

All this stress is making me fat.

I spend a lot of time in my head with wishful thinking.

Sometimes, I get too tired to sleep.

I really hate knowing that I was that close again. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson by now and just be the calloused ass without dropping my guard.

To the future.

I started, thinking I might write a short story today, or possibly finish a comic outline or issue or two, but then I realized that all I wanted to do was write, about nothing in general and everything I've been thinking about all at once.

I touched on this before, but it's something I've been really running through my head recently, relationships. And the more that one fails at them, the more revered their relationship advice becomes. Before that's dismissed as nonsense, think of it this way: are you going to listen to someone that's been dating the same person since high school (high school ending almost ten years ago) or someone that's been out there and played the field?
The answer's a bit obvious. The high school relationship person has only had to work it out with the one person, ever. While the other, though they may not have the best intentions or priorities in relationships, will likely know how to gauge a general situation and (hopefully) successfully navigate it. I know (for the latter person) this isn't always the case, they're either out to get fucked or honestly suck and inter-personal interactions that span longer than a few weeks.
Me? I know people from both camps, and the subsidiaries included in both. I myself am asked for advice when things don't seem to add up, which is what spawned this brain stemming of thoughts. I'm running on a 0/20+ losing streak, so it's strange to think that a person would trust my judgment on the matter. Even when I thought I had it right, I just flushed it with indifference, so how am I going to fix, or aid in a resolution, to their predicament being an outside source with only observation and bias to judge on?
Don't get me wrong, I'm flattered and I give my two cents and feel it to be pretty good. I shoot straight, don't set up a idol for false hope and in the end, I feel that regardless if they're happy with it or not, the advisee walks away with a dose of expectations gauged for reality.
But back to the point, how can those so jaded from the idea of a healthy relationship become sages with a wealth of knowledge that others can be so hungry for? Is it the idea of mistakes making a person understand better how the cogs of a mechanism fit and churn? That seems to be the only way it makes sense to me. A man who builds explosives for a living is going to learn fast what is more volatile aside from what isn't. And maybe that's all relationships are when we get down to the core, a concoction of elements that mix well or not at all. Then the ones that do depend upon their storing and environment before a disastrous black cloud is looming over their cinders and ashes.
It's just a though, anyway.

There are times when I hate social media. Mainly because I care very little what people on the majority have to say. It's a bunch of intersecting lives/lines, the next thinking itself to be more interesting/important than the one before it. And on and on. And what I do is no different, don't think for a second that I don't know it and that I don't buy into it on most levels that I can get away with.

The times, they are a changing.

I think it's strange that people who have more failed relationships that successful ones, are usually giving advice about dating. It's like the more you fail at it, there's comes a strange reverence that comes with the repetitive heartbreak.

It's a thought that's fairly difficult to articulate my thoughts on, like most things in the field. Seems like most of my life has been spent studying the effects of the opposite sex on myself and the like-minded. And the further I get down that line trying to distance myself from lonely, but only succeeding in bringing it closer, I realize that I ride a fine line on wanting a family and wanting to drink myself to death all alone and bitter at some ripe old age.

We'll see how this plot thickens.

Loneliness is a disease, or so I think sometimes. Only staved off my a simple connection. A reason to wake up in the morning. But since my connections are all temporary, I find my medicine in bottles with black labels and that's okay with me.

My drunk life, I realize, has become a sad satire of my sober drinking habits about five years ago. It's strange how people claim they mature when they really have tendencies to follow their own footsteps.