More memory please...

"Shit, I know that guy. He's a nihilist..." The Dude

It's entirely possible that all my urges to distance myself and detach from the world are merely the result of my extensive laziness. 'Whether it's easier to have friends than to not' is a question answered by the degree of laziness I can maintain with said friends. Sometimes, sure I'm more interested than not. Other times, I even get overwhelmed by the need to just chat like a gossip queen whose jaw is unhinged and constantly flapping something 'semi-' to 'just not amusing'. Perhaps it's just my over thinking the topic, but it seems I have a default, and that default is 'underwhelmed.' Ironically enough, given the need to play Chatty Cathy. Hell, I could put on a decent show, stage her up, Cathy with tons of blue eye shadow, and drawn on brows. I could embrace an acting role or two, why not?

Meh.

The shiny distracting object is my lethargy.

Not to suggest apathy, necessarily, I just don't mind the idea of trying about 60%, about 60% of the time. I sometimes feel like "part-timin'" this shit. Life is silly and complicated all at the same time. Don't you hate that? It's simple yet frustrating, what the hell? Sure I could jump waves, throw caution to the wind and run naked through my successful future with millions of dollars at my finger tips, but those rich folks complain too much about how hard they had to work. Forget that! I'm okay with a, "don't piss on my rug, and I won't... well I just won't do anything... F. it." kind of life.

Revenge is too much work, and Heroes is on tonight.

***

If one more person suggests I'm stressed out, I might have to do something substantial like blink. Think of the family dog finding a spot on the carpet near the sofa. He spins in his circles to find the best moment to plop down to comfort, and that's all I'm doing. I'm not trying to see this world as something super meaningful, but it is. I want there to be nothing at the end of this life. I want it to be nothing. However, I get this feeling all the time that says there will have to be something. "Energy can be neither created or destroyed," and I often wonder if our consciousness really could envelop it's own energy force. I suppose I can only hope not. The social constructs I've grown with tell me that's a strange way to feel, but I do. Perhaps my soul has a death wish, but my gut says, "thanks, but no thanks." I once theorized it was an old spirit that sought a more permanent ending. Something tells me reincarnated spirits might get a little tired of the process over time. Don't you think? However, all of that is to imply that I have an 'old spirit', and to declare such a thing seems awfully arrogant.

Excuse me while I lackadaisically adjust my tiara.

This seemingly manic induced rambling was originally intended as a discussion on my lack of collected photography of my life. I just don't think I ever embraced the concept of keepsaking my life. I don't know if it's just an aversion to nostalgia, which seems unlikely, or if I simply don't care. Surely I care, but I do have this interesting manner of criticizing believers in an afterlife for their always looking forward and never keepsaking the life we have right now, and here I am musing that I feel uninterested in memorizing the details of my past. Am I any different? If I'm not trying to capture moments in the present, because I don't value keepsaking my past, then one could argue I'm doing the same. I'm looking forward in hopes for some kind of finite ending. I am insisting that this world mean very little, when I've bashed others for not taking care of our here and now. How hypocritical.

The window to the confessional just isn't hiding enough this evening.

Maybe we're all nihilists, and life really is meaningless.