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I've realised what's wrong with me.
It's lack of motivation, that's it. I never get anything done, I never achieve anything. I do shit, I fail Latin exams. I hardly ever go out, I have no true friends. It's not all the Jews' fault Abu, it's mine. Simply put, I have fuck-all motivation. Like us all, I want to get out there and do something with my life. I want to change people - preferably for the better. I want to have some sort of influence and make my life slightly worthwhile. I don't want it all to be wasted. I want to be an influence and to accomplish. But I have no motivation.

I always thought I was someone different - special. Someone with something to offer. Sure I may be different but that's not hard, I may have something to offer but is it worthwhile? I'm scared that maybe, just maybe I do have something somewhere and I'm wasting it. Common sense and my dammed cynicism tells me no. I'm not different. I wanted to be remembered when I'm gone. I like the idea of being around after my death. But who will remember me a month, a year, a decade, a century, a millennium, a billion years down the line? I'm truly am nothing - the quintessence of insignificance. I'm just a kid with a dream. A dream that'll never come true.

Back to what I was intending to say... Motivation always lets me down. I hardly ever go out. I don't meet people. Perhaps it's my lack of confidence around all things new? I think the main reason I like school is because people are forced to be around me and it's a lazy way for me to be around people. Once I leave university I don't know what I'll be doing. I can't see myself being invited to nights out. I can't see myself seeing people doing things. I'm scared to death of staying at home living my pitiful existence doing nothing. I don't want to fritter all my time away.

I've already all but given up on finding the special person. I doubt I'll even be able to find someone who will make me happy and whom I can please. But now, lack of motivation keeps me back. The last two holidays I've made massive lists of things I need to do. Every time I come back to it and see half of it not done. Revision. Homework. Talking. Hobbies. Jobs. Socialising. Thinking. Weasley.exe. mp3 cataloguing. Writing. Reading. I never do them. At least I even got round to noting all this down. Every day I get home and go down, watch TV for a while staring at the flickering screen but not seeing anything. Then I go and play a game for a while. Probably something like Counterstrike. I don't get any pleasure out of doing it, I just do it to occupy myself. I don't need to concentrate and just play the same levels over and over again. I eat, sleep and listen to some music without hearing the notes. I don't get anything done. Before I know it, it's eleven thirty and I have to get ready for bed. I have to clean my teeth, exercise, wash, shut down PC, close curtains, read a chapter of a book, close my eyes, all that. And each day I ask myself, "what have I done?" The reply's already there. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

There's so much stuff I need to do. I wanted to write about Banks. Let him know I don't mean the shit I say to him. There was so much I wanted to say - he's so fucking complex. I guess I'll have to do it sometime. Before I leave I want to write a letter to everyone. Each person I have to tell how much I appreciate them. Let them know that I loved them. Because I know that I'll lose touch. They won't make the effort to see me, I'll do the same. Even if two years isn't enough, after university and stuff, all these fabulous people I know will be merely vague memories of real people I once knew. They'll never be real again. I'm so scared but I know it will happen. I know because it's happened before. I wanted to write about Lois. Let her know how she made me feel ask her whether she cares about what went through me. But I can never say it with feeling because I know I've done exactly the same and will do it again and again. I want to try and explain Weasley, Daws, TD. Even though it won't change her and it was my fault, I want to write to Rosanna about why she acted the way she did. Sam I really owe an apology to. Suda...god. I never learn. I never, ever learn. I want people to understand that I am a person too.

I feel there's so much within me yearning to be shared. There must be some good about me somewhere just I can't dig it up to show people. I want them to understand it's there. I know I can be something more than I am now, I just don't know how to be. I will never "get" myself. Can't understand what I am. I just want someone else to be able to.

All around me I see death, destruction, injustice, torture, pain, spite and all sorts of shit. I can't understand it properly. I don't have the emotion. I've been so sheltered I don't have the feeling to express it all. There's just not enough inside me. I want to understand the meaning of it all but I can’t. I want to be able to feel what it's like for myself. So I can seethe picture clearly. I want to breathe in the smoke and exhale oxygen. I want to make it all end. Most of all, I wish I could do something. I feel so helpless because I am. I wish I had some control over my life but no matter how motivated I become I have a infinitesimal sphere of influence. And I don't even have the power to make myself motivated. I'm so delicate but I no-one can see that. I don't want to be naïve anymore. I want to distance myself from humanity so I can look down from a different perspective.

I don't even have the courage to speak my mind. I am a phoney. I want to be able to see meaning in just one thing. My dream is to write a book/make a piece of art/say one thing/accomplish one feat that I will agree with in a million years for now. I want it to all be correct. I want to make something that is right. I want it to stop, to stop, to stop, to stop, to stop... I don’t want to die alone and ignorant. I want to rest easy. I wish that I could be happy and mean it.

There are thousands of topics I've noted down to do journal entries on. Not one of them has been completed. I could go back and spell check/punctuate these ramblings but I can't be bothered. I can't be bothered to have a life, to do something after school, to get up over the holidays, to earn some money, to make real friends, to make something of my life. The worst thing of all is I can't be bothered to change. I don't even have the concentration to gather my thoughts properly. To understand which is the right side of an argument. To realise moral dilemmas. I don't know what I believe. I'm not even sure if I mean any of this. I'll say it again: I long to be sure about one single thing at least. Work out what I actually think.

I just don't have the motivation to become motivated.

    mood: qwertyuiopdolorouspoiuytrewq
    choon: Carina Round - On Leaving
From:turkeyphant [.]
Posted: Tuesday 24th December, 2002 at 10:06.28
 It confused me too.
The anal statistics entry was the result of one of the ways to waste time at night I seem to have a knack of thinking up. I'll start some sort of project or idea just to see what I can do and, before I know it, the sun's rising and the birds are singing the next morning. Banks came up with the idea in the first place, and I just wanted to try and look cool by comprehensively bettering him. You won't care for the details, but the statistics were generated mostly from Word's built-in analysis tools. Find and Replace can tell you how many times a certain string appears, so I ran various words and phrases through that. The other statistics came from word counts and the readability statistics. But yeah, I basically did it myself, spending hours throwing obscure words at a copy of my journal and checking for frequency matches and such.The only hard bit was manually calculating how to remove the formatting I include in the journal document on my computer. The names thing took a long time and I kept making mistakes with calculating the frequency of occurrences but I was really glad for the benefit of copy and paste as well as a couple of home-brew macros. I'm not sure if it represents self-motivation, but it certainly required lots of determination, patience and dead time. After, did I actually achieve anything at the end of it?

I'm not sure whether it's my place to do so, but can I suggest you read the few "essential reading" entries. In my mind, they represent the best pieces of writing in these memoirs. Especially check out the recent entries entitled "odi et amo: Catullus's inspiration" and "i just remembered how suda had the original idea for weasley.exe..." Some of the comments I've received and posted are quite thought provoking and really add to my own content. Try not to judge the quality of each entry by its title - I've never been any good at thinking of descriptive and original attention-grabbing subject lines.

I am glad I'm able to record my feelings, but I don't do it nearly often enough. I get annoyed with myself because I miss out on incidents that I consider important due to a medley of inconsequential reasons. The reason I said this is a prime example of me lacking self-motivation is because I always go round in circles not getting anywhere. I never achieve anything, especially not anything to be proud of. I certainly don't make anything lasting or influential. One thing I find especially annoying is the way I am unable focus, to concentrate on one thing and think for whatever length of time it takes me to indisputably discover what my true feelings and beliefs in relation to that subject are.

I don't really see why you are so keen not to reveal your identity but, after all, it's your choice. Nobody really checks back on these old entries anymore but, if it's only Kaplan and others you're worried about, could you drop me an email just saying who you are? If not, no problem - it's up to you. I'm just intrigued now. I don't see how anyone could see what you're saying as anything other than kind, thoughtful and honest - why should they feel vindictive? As I'm failing to recognise the writing style, I hope I'm right in guessing you're from Reigate?

I find that I can be completely honest in my journal, as I'm not scared of what people think of me. If they can't cope with the sentiments I write about in my journal, then I don't mind if I miss out on their company during life. As I no longer spend much time in Reigate and few people know of the existence of my journal at my new school, it is made even easier. Still, one of the reasons I sometimes find it hard to update as regularly as I'd like is because I'm increasingly careful to make my entries something I'm happy to have represent me and, as such, I need to take more time over them. We all enjoy self-analysis, no matter whether it's good for us or not.

Thanks again for reading, I'm glad some people take the time to have an interest in the mundane things that happen to me. I do appreciate it.
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