And there's so much I should/could be doing with my days. Writing, reading, running, applying for jobs - and attending interviews, fuck the snotty agency staff - just breathing and feeling good about life. And I tell myself that I can do these things, but you see I don't and then I feel that I've failed. It is so stupid and self-defeating and I know this. All of which explains why I'm twitching and constantly in a maelstrom of thought and inaction - why can't I break through this? I'm really ashamed of myself. Normally all this would get written in my journal and I really have no idea why it's getting posted here, when I find it nearly impossible to tell friends what's going on, but then that's the strange thing about blogs, they are liberating and, at the same time, demand brutal honesty.
I started this blog because I wanted my life to be radically different and now it is, though not in the way I'd wanted it to be. So perhaps it is time to restate those aims, apologies if they sound pompous, goals always seem to.
Finally, I know that this period of powerlessness won't last forever, it just feels endless right now. As soon as we get out of this mad situation all of the above will feel so distant that I'll wonder how I ever came to write it.