Walking Through Fire

god damn am i bored. its been boring weekend after boring weekend for a really long time now. i am supposed to agree that getting rid of the girls in my life that had a negative impact was a good thing. but its been boring as all hell without them. sure i can see the reasoning behind it, im not complaining as much about them, but its like an addiction, you can tell yourself the same shit over and over, but you still want a taste. im not used to having such a boring life. im used to drama, pain, extreme sadness and being happy, i guess to an extreme also. but im not so sure. now as i said in just bored with no real friends any longer and not much going on. but weekends spent in my apartment, my very smokey apartment, are something i wish would change. i lay around wondering if i will ever make it out alive. and then i wonder what to do as i am a firm believer in action and reaction. taking action always a better idea than doing nothing at all. but the main thing stopping me from this is that my weekends have no structure whatsoever. my weekdays are also that way, except for work, but even that has started to bore me. is the boredom supposed to push me into action, a fulcrom on my life pushing it to give slowly. that if it happend too quickly i would be crushed under the strain as i have been before. is it telling me, or someone telling me to work on my writing, that ill meet people through my writing, that the only happiness i will find is through something that makes me happy. this i have a hard time believing as writing is like a lover, good and bad times all together now. i dont know. i do know that ive always had someone to call, or someone to call me, to come over or go out whenever i chose to. people to almost take care of me when i needed it. but none of them ever really loving or caring that much for me to make it an actual relationship. its sad that i acutally miss stacy, a girl who had such a negative affect on me, giving her too much positive thoughts, missing the whole of it, what a mess our time together had been. to think that a realtionship occuring during a time that i was so distruaght that i tried to hang myself is quit puzzling. maybe its just too much time alone on the weekends and too much time during the week in the same old routine. wake up, annoyed i have to move, smoke after smoke after smoke, not showering, wearing clothes that need to be cleaned, mindlessly driving to work only to be bored and question why am i here, excited by the fifteen minutes i get to smoke and go outdoors. getting into my car and smoking all the way home to sit and do what. nothing. all the things i should be doing the things i know i need to do, i do none of them, i get lost in life and i just do nothing at all. no changes, nothing new, just old, becoming almost a strange backwards shadow of the man i vowed never to become, my father. and not really having the strength to smash the mirror that shows me who i am to make it something else, something new, something me. running the same old games hoping to find saftey, solace, refuge and peace, never to be found. to have things that used to make me feel good turn to ice in my eyes, just slow, melting ice, drip drip dripping....like wathing paint dry and trying to enjoy it over and over again. i heard in a movie latley that insanity is taking the same actions over and over again and actually believing that there will be a different outcome. its not as bad as that, but its bad. something needs to give....but what. i remember what my life was like two years ago. i was about to be in the hospital, and i was about to say, i just cant believe what my life has become. i used to have my own apartment, a car that was paid for, furniture, books, i could buy things, i had clothes...i thought at the time i had nothing. and i did, now i have all of that and more. but i was ready for the alone time i would face, the uncertanity i would face of what the choices i make actually mean for me. things i used to like have no meaning for me any longer, like movies, i used to love movies, now they bore me. tv, just a short while ago was a big part of my life, now i find it quite annoying. my job which gave me solace now seems to be just a pain in my ass, getting in the way of what, what i want to be, who i should be, why am i not that person. i know why, but i still ask. then i feel sad about the women that are no longer in my life. but i try to come up with a reason on why i should or would want them in my life or even talk to them. they all had issues, each of them, and they all had one thing in common...endless supplies of drama, a endless fountain of it...a friend recently said, when has she not had drama in her life...truer words have never been spoken. i guess i was wrong about one thing, my actions to no longer spend time with negaitve people with shit loads of drama going on has had an effect, positive, but for some reason i always see the negative of it. that im alone, and i really dont know what to do aobut it.