let's talk about what i've been trying not to talk about.

i can't write anymore because the only thing i can write about is what i don't want to write about.

so i'm going to write about it.

God.

yeah, i know he's there. i know i'm completely ignoring him. i'm apparently just not ready to give it away. i feel no real remorse for how i'm living. i do what i want when i want and i really don't care what anybody thinks about it. it's not that i'm doing anything terribly wrong. i don't get drunk or high. i'm not robbing banks or molesting little girls. i'm basically just living. living without conviction or purpose. defrauding myself and God of any real opportunities or talents that i may come across in my pathetic existence. it's like i'm in spiritual isolation. i'm making no progress, but neither am i digressing. i'm stagnant. buzzards flying overhead. flies laying eggs. mosquitos breeding in my ear canal. the stench of my rotting soul. stay away. unclean. unclean.

and the worst part of it is i have no real desire to fix it. in my own mind i've come to realize that there will be a complete failure for each complete attempt. and a half-ass attempt is not really an attempt at all, but a plot aimed at sneaking in the nonexistent backdoor. so how do i fix this? i suppose first i have to want to. how do i want to? i want to want. i have no passion anymore except for things like music and movies. i'd rather listen to an elliott smith cd than try to save my soul from hell.

it's not worth it.

and the fact that i realize my own folly and refuse to do anything about it makes me the worst kind of sinner.

there has to be something to fix this.

there has to be.