I'm glad I wrote this blog. But it really does show how much of my life I've spent being unhappy. I think there's some correlations here and there. I've said before how I only write when I'm sad, and that goes for music as well (or at least lyrics) and being creative in general. This year however was the year I've wrote in this least since starting it.
Does that mean it was my happiest year? In some moments it was probably the happiest I'd been since childhood. In fact the most I had to complain about was that I probably shouldn't have been enjoying it as much as I should, for the first few months, which I spent being a recluse and playing videogames. In fact there was a time where I literally didn't meet up with any friends or do anything for months, or even leave my house. I spent my days trying to finish that cartoon (which wasn't very good) up until December. Then I had nothing to do and no obligations for ages. And this is how I expected the year to last. And honestly this was quite a nice time.
But then, in March, Zak had his birthday meet up, and I met up with a bunch of old friends I hadn't seen for months. And I met a bunch of new people who I liked, whose company I enjoyed and who enjoyed my company. And I enjoyed myself quite a bit. So I decided to try and be more of a social and outgoing person from that moment onwards, and to integrate myself into that group. So I did, and it was fun. But I was constantly aware the whole time that this was just a passing thing, and I'd be leaving London to start a completely new life soon. So I could never completely just relish in my happiness, except May. May was specifically amazing. The holiday + some other stuff I can't really write here.
The thing is that I was fine with that before. Back in fuckin' January. My life was different. I had nothing going for me back here except dossing around for a year, which I wanted to do. But then I made the mistake of making it so I did have something going for me. It brought me happiness, then a coming sadness when that had to end. And I can't convince myself it was worth it. But I can't change anything now. I just have to build a life down here and hope it's as good. But the thing is, I find that so difficult. It was such an amazing system making the friends I'd made, because 1: I knew they were most likely cool people because they were already friends of 2 of my best friends, and 2: I could just instantly be myself around them because I am myself around my old friends.
I've always found it difficult communicating and making friends, but somehow I never really was this year until now. It's a horrible feeling. I thought I was cured, but it turns out I was just in a specific circumstance. And without that circumstance, I am unable.
But of course I haven't really gone into details with this blog. So I'm wondering what the point is of having this over something like a diary. Nobody reads it except me and maybe the occasional 1 or 2 other people, and whenever I want to write something down that really expresses how I am feeling, I get incredibly nervous that it'll be made public, and I refrain. I never used to be like this, as evident from earlier blog entries here.
Maybe I should just say. I am becoming pessimistic about life in general. But I think it's just the way I am. Being happy for a long period of time is a naturally hard thing for me to obtain. Why was I sad all those years ago? Nothing was really wrong. I spent a lot of time bored. But I feel bored is good for me, in that usually the only other alternative is sadness. Now things in my life are actually wrong and I wish I could go back even 6 months.
I think part of the problem is that, when I discovered how big life is, how important it is, and how short it is, I decided I wanted a lot more from it. And I never get that "lot more" that I decided I need. And I am currently at a dark time in my life. But I had such immense happy times such a short while ago. So I am at least understanding that you can never know what is around the corner, and how you are now can always change.
I retired my old blog when it got to the 100th entry. This is the 99th entry. The next and last entry will be my album, then I might move onto somewhere else. Myspace, Blogspot. What's next? Tumblr? Or nothing? I'll probably always keep writing. But it might just be on paper, in a book, that I keep by my bed.