Suddenly I'm budgeting. Was I idealistic before? If I saw myself as I am now five years ago, what would I think? I'd like my trench coat and my ever-present shades. I wouldn't mind my smoking, I think. But...what would I think of my budgeting? I should be writing stories and yet I'm in front of an office computer thinking god damn, the house is filthy. I have to do dishes and clean the catbox--rock the catbox!--and pay the bills and do laundry and pay more bills and run errands...real errands, not the fun kind. How can I be magickal when I can't even dream anymore? I used to have so many friends...insomnia, night terrors, lucid dreams, choking fits, trouble distinguishing between dreams and reality. Now I don't dream, I don't hear the voices or see Malkavians offering me brutal choices as I try to walk to class after half an hour of fitful sleep. Now I just work, clean, and die slowly for eight hours a night; no magick, no drama, no need to question reality anymore, which makes for a very unreal reality. And I'm down to one voice that I can't hear except when I'm budgeting, and then it only says somthing that sounds like "nathan, this is unacceptable". I usually ignore it in favor of thinking, not about chaos and cosmos and spirit and soul, but about how I really should start wearing makeup; I'm twenty-two now, after all, and I do work in an office, and would it kill me to get some normal clothes? In a few weeks I'll go get my nails done, though I don't know why.