How many times can you hit rock bottom?

No, this isn't one of those questions with a punch-line joke answer...Sadly, it's my life.

I suppose I need to find the motivation to move...in general. Little things, like leaving my damn apartment, etc. I haven't been myself in many many many months. Whatever that self is, or was.

I feel like I've undergone personality makeovers every year for the last 12 years of my life. I used to be the most constant eight year old...Scratch that. I think I was somewhat depressed when I was seven...I suppose we'll go back 14 years. Yes, I was a constant six year old. Except for...

I suppose I've never really been myself. I have no self to point to...And, if I were a philosophy major, I would launch into some wonderful dialectical discussion of my life as it was, as it is...and as it should/will be. Thank G-d I am an English major, and only go so far as B.S. rambly bloggings. Count your lucky stars Amy and Janet.

Yes, I have two readers. Two. Two very highly intelligent, kind-hearted souls who deal with the crap on this blog that I scramble up.

I don't know if that speaks highly of them or just points to the even greater failure that is me. At least they know me well enough to understand that I am not being melodramatic. (Yes, it's a trap).

Every time I am in the metro here, actually throughout my entire life, I have had such an urge to try and cross those tracks. Of course, jumping over that damned third rail...I know you have too...though you may not admit it.

Nowadays I eye it with even more planning and thought...I could totally make it. I just need to find a station that has one of those timers in between trains, go there really late during the week, when there's no one in the metro...and do it. Perhaps I will. I must sometime this year, and now seems like the perfect time, since I'm up 24/7 anyway and do not sleep.