such is the winter of our discontent

[katster]

one question haunts and hurts
too much, too much to mention
was I really seeking good
or just seeking attention?
Is that all good deeds are
when looked at through an ice-cold eye...

I'm obsessing again. Somehow, I've gotten my hands on the Wicked soundtrack and am beating the obsessive hell out of "No Good Deed". I think the fact I have these mp3s is chamelaeon and laechim and rdmgryphon's fault. Or at least they're the ones I'm blaming for it. (Mecha supplied the drugs, Cham gave us the first hit, and RDM owns the crack house. That's the order.)

But I am running off on a happy fun tangent again, and I need to contain myself and run back on the main rail before I wind up in Alberquerque. And the main point is that as of late I've been feeling like a shaken soda bottle before the cap is removed. In trying to explain this state to poor zibblsnrt, I explained as there being too much me for the space in my head. It's an odd sort of problem, almost like being stir crazy but not quite. And there's a lot of things that are swirling in there at speeds sometimes I can't even grasp -- the events of last Sunday, the fact it's been a long harsh year since mom fell out of remission, the self-proclaimed Smartest Man in the World (caps inclusive) and the mere arrogance it takes to *say* something like that, the fact I'm stuck in this podunk town, the fact it's been two and a half freaking years since I last saw Patrick, and goddamn I've been wanting so badly to spend a Christmas with him, the fact that the goddamn words are running when I try to corral them and there's a FUCKING deadline coming up, jillcaligirl seeming to need a lot of my time, the fact it doesn't feel much like Christmas...

Well that's a good chunk of it. That and I'm feeling lonely and alienated and kinda lost in the translation, if that makes sense. Nobody can see the pop bottle about to explode, the fizzies are gone, and it's just a large "contents under pressure" that is me. The system is out of order. Please deposit twenty-five cents for ten more minutes.

But yeah, I'm trapped in a mess of philosophical implications that I can't find, and there's that bit about trying my goddamn best and yet it never being good enough. And that I know is the depression beast trying his damned hardest to find a way to get to me and goddamn it he is not going to do it. But the song strikes chords with me for that matter, especially the lyrics I pasted in to begin this whole mess. Because I always worry that when I do things, I'm seeking attention. That I'm not doing it for some altruistic reason, I'm doing it for the "hey look at me look at the good I've done!" value.

And yeah, it's stupid. But I've also been in an overly jaundiced and cynical mood the last few days, somewhat connected with the contents being under pressure. And yeah, I'm just so confused. And swirly.

And I don't know what to do right now.

no good deed goes unpunished
no act of charity goes unresented...