Maybe I'm not ready to take responsibility. Maybe that's why I feel like I can't write my book right now. Because one of the most reoccurring themes in my book is that we need to, as spiritual beings, take responsibility for ourselves. And stop living the lie of our surface lives.

And I was connected to my Higher Self. I realize that now because I don't know who I am without it. I feel like I'm living someone else's life. Going to Starbucks 40 hours a week, coming "home" to this foreign apartment. Having sex with James.

Who am I?

I lived on a cloud. I knew it and I loved it. I was in such a state of bliss and love. Maybe not the purest state of bliss and love, but a pretty decent one.

I deserve to be me. I deserve to have that bliss. I deserve to be one with my Higher Self. But I think I was abusing my right.

My mom once told me that I ate to cover up my Higher Self's voice. In other words, when I felt my Higher Self, I would ignore it by distracting myself with food. And I do seriously get the impulse to eat mentally, not physically. And I eat in excess. One could call me a binger. Because I can go hours and hours and hours without eating. My body doesn't even complain. But then mentally I'll get the urge to eat and I'll stuff my face.

For the record, I am not at all anorexic or bulimic, nor do I worry about my weight in the least. I just had to get that straight.

It's like I don't really care about food, but I love to stuff my face. Compulsive eating.

Ironically, whenever my stomach actually tells me I'm hungry, I don't feel like eating. I love to eat when I'm not hungry and hate to eat when I am.

Probably because, as I said, I don't really care about food, and my body telling me it needs it just irritates me when I feel I have better things to do. But I use food as a comfortable distraction from my Higher Self. And therefore relish it when need be.

But I've also been told that I distract myself with movies, books and puzzles. And I already know I waste my time sleeping a lot. The sleep thing is the exact same as eating. When my body tells me it's tired, I'm like fuck off, let me stay up all night. I really don't like to sleep and I don't like being told that I have to sleep when I'd prefer to do otherwise. And yet, I can binge sleep. To no end. I can sleep for like 14 hours in a row, wake up, and decide to go back to sleep cause I haven't had enough.

And it's mental, not physical. I Want to sleep. Like I want to lose consciousness, avoid consciousness, distract myself from consciousness.

I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. I wanted to be spiritually connected to my Higher Self but ignore the responsibilities. What responsibilities? I can't really say, because I ignore them. I like to feel like I want to do something. I like enthusiasm and positivity. I do not like to feel like I have to do something. I do not like that feeling. It's ironically just the same as the eating and sleeping.

As soon as I'm told I have to do either of them, they lose their appeal. But when I have the free time, I overeat and get an excess amount of sleep habitually.

I like to work on spiritual things. But I don't like to feel like I have to. The enthusiasm is invigorating. Sometimes I'm tired and I can feel the impulse to write or work things out and I'm like NO, I'm sorry, but I just can't do it right now.

I just won't do things when I'm not ready. And I don't yet know why...

In time, I'll figure it out. but I need to figure out why I need to be ready to do things when I'm ready to do things, not before.

But I think what I originally discovered, when I began this entry, is that I'm living the exact surface life that I don't want to live. I probably live like many, many other people in the world. And it's boring and lame. People try to spice it up with drama and stress but that would feel like such a lie, I couldn't even fool myself into experiencing those.

I have this detached feeling to it all. I'm not depressed. Depression is full. I'm just empty. Empty of any negativity, empty of any positivity. Just bored.

But I told myself before I moved in here that I have got to stop distracting myself from writing my book. I realized that I was asking for distractions. I was asking for later shifts at work so that I can spend my whole day either working or sleeping and have no time for my book. And when I did have a little time on those days, I would waste it watching Friends or something.

It's like I don't want to work on it. And I'm asking to not work on it. But I feel like I could only abuse my freedom for so long. I had freedom, living in my parents house. I went to college but that was nothing. I ditched the binds of high school. I didn't have a job. I haven't been a slave to anything for two years.

But all I wanted to do with my freedom is waste it. To shut off my mind, suffocate my power, ignore my responsibilities. And I could only do that for free for so long.

I mean technically, I could still do that if I went to VA with my parents. But I felt that this is where my place was. I asked for this. I asked for more distractions, more surface responsibilities that are just a bore. Paying rent? Wow, what a bore.

I mean, the plus side about getting a job was that I would have money to spend on myself. But I don't have that because I have to pay rent. I'm spending 40 hours a week making coffee so that I can live in a place I don't really like. This whole deal just sucks. I liked the middle man. Someone else making money to pay for the place to live.

Me, not working, just living. My mom said that when she was 18, she loved having her own apartment. And I said, yeah, but that's because you felt oppressed in your mom's house and you relished the freedom that you had in your own place. But me, what am I relishing, the freedom to pay my own bills? That's nothing to be enthusiastic about. I don't feel oppressed in my household. I feel violated sometimes, but not oppressed. My whole life, the main problem was that my mom judged all the "bad things" about the world. And for a long time, I was involved with these evil things she disliked. So, yes, at that point, I felt judged and oppressed.

But I've ditched most of those habits. You know? I don't wear black as much anymore. At least I didn't until I began working and now I'm forced to wear it 40 hours a week, but I'm so bored and lazy when I get home I just sleep in it (it's actually pretty comfy). And so I end up wearing black a lot...

But anyway, I told myself that I needed to return all the books and movies I had out from the library. I currently have two things left. Eldest, the book, which I'm a hundred something pages into, so I want to finish it before I return it. And Bones, which I've already seen, I only checked out so I could watch with James. He was supposed to come today but didn't want to and tomorrow I have off as well but I'm making dinner for my parents and Amelia and having them over. Though it will probably end up being really boring...

And I'm just bored without my distractions. I desperately want to just turn on the TV and watch Friends for ten hours straight. But now that I've called myself on it, I can't go back to doing it. Now that I've realized what I'm doing, I can't pretend that I don't realize it. I know it's wrong and I have to stop.

But I still haven't sat down to write. And I can't write with this attitude. I can't be in the state of mind it takes to write the book when I'm in this state of mind.

But am I willing and ready to take responsibility?

It's like I have this choice before me. This lie, this distraction of a surface life that I had numerous years ago and other people waste lifetimes on. Something that satisfied me a little bit at one time (even though I was miserable). Or that cloud, that bliss, that positive attitude, the optimism and enthusiasm and joy and satisfaction.

Obviously, I'm bored with the first choice. I can't get into it. It's lame and I don't want anything to do with it. I feel as unfeeling and dispassionate as a robot doing the motions.

So obviously I'd prefer the second choice. But, I know that living it half and half was a lie as well. That I was on the verge between being spiritually responsible and living like a robot. Distracting myself mindless whenever I wanted to put aside my spiritual responsibilities and enjoying the pleasures when it suited me.

And right now, all I want to do is eat and read and watch tv and sleep. Anything to stop this.... whatever it is that I'm avoiding. But I can't relax and do any of those things if I know that I'm doing them for this reason.

I was on the verge for two years, and now I feel like the decision has been made. Maybe I made it by not finishing my book. After all, my book was supposed to open doors for me. It was supposed to push me in the spiritual direction I wanted. Manifest a life that reflected my spiritual consciousness.

And I had the summer to do it. It's not like I didn't work on it. But I spent a lot of time not working on it, a lot, a lot MORE time not working on it.

And in doing so, perhaps I hopped off the fence of indecision and I decided to live the robotic surface life. And I realize now that it's not what I wanted. It's not, not, not for me.

But I also realize, with bitter resignation, that it's my fault that things are the way they are. And that I'm the only one who could and can make things the way I originally wanted them to be. But it's not going to be easy. It's not going to fall into place on its own. I'm the one who has to take power, will, responsibility and make it happen. I have to PUSH open the doors that I want to walk through. They don't have automatic sensors like at Walmart.

Well, I mean, they kind of do, if I'm to be honest. But the thing is, Walmart sensors only sense you when you've already walked up to the doors and you're a couple feet away. In other words, you have place yourself before the doors with your own will and power. And then they'll open up for you. And at the moment, I'm turned in the wrong direction, heading through the wrong doors. And I can't expect to head to the place I want to be if I'm walking through the wrong doors. It's nonsensical.