Stop-gap measures intended to mitigate systemic problems in life, more often than not, amount to the fortification of those intended problems in question.

Here I write again, hoping to rationalize the deleterious decisions I have made for myself over the last few years. Though half-drunk, and somewhat disillusioned by the sheer force of stress, I feel as if I can manage an account by words of how I have described my life until now, and on the changes necessary to bring that course within the constraints of my wishes for my future-directed volition.
I'm in a room. It's plainly furnished, with an inflatable bed and a bench on which the computer I use is situated. I've been drinking some Sailor Jerry, and I feel a little off with regards to my capacity for reservation. So now I am compelled to write.
I feel empty, like a void in an otherwise homogeneously populated 3-space of atomic matter. My thoughts, indeed, do occupy the 2^n possible recombination of ideas accessible to the abstract virtue of human thought. When I obtain new information (which is, inherently, governed by the principles of chaos theory), I tend to address it with a pathological state of mind, and I file it for rationalization.
This is, objectively, a strategy that will ensue my untimely demise. I must become a functioning member of society. But the gravity of that undertaking is more than I wish to endure. My instincts tell me to maintain my current momentum towards failure, whilst my conscious direction suggests that I make a diametrically opposite destination as my intended target. My 4-evolution in space-time has been everything short of glorious - I am a slave to chemical substance, and my capacity for expressing myself exactly has been greatly diminished. But there exists the unassuming ideal - that I can fix my circumstances - which looms before my gaze. I can recognize this outcome as palpable, and I want it before anything else.
When I was in Korea, I once knew a girl that I thought I could eventually marry. She was perfect, in my eyes. No flaw betrayed her identity. Things never worked out, and the only reasons I could interpolate were:
1.) She didn't like me in a romantic sense, or
2.) I never tried.
I have always resigned myself to the belief of the former option, but now I seriously wonder whether or not the latter might have been the true cause of my ineptitude.
Regardless, let's fast-forward into the present. Here I sit, drafting a confession of invalidity, under the guise of a proclamation of fixing my circumstances. I have no idea what I should expect from the future. I can only guarantee that my current state of mind will direct me into darker waters, and that is a direction in which I wish not to go.
Who the fuck am I? My family, unapologetically, thinks I am some sort of uncovered genius that simply awaits its discovery; my own perception is farthest from their own. For those of you who have seen 'Ozymandias' of Breaking Bad, my mental fortitude is rival to the plot revealed in this episode. I am reaping what I sowed. The consequences of my inaction, over the years, has resulted in the deterministic downfall plaguing my life.
Our actions have gravity. They manifest themselves, in the natural world, as intractable motions that definitively set the course for downfall. And here I sit, on this bed, typing my alcohol-infused confession of self-directed fall from glory. What ought I to do with my life? Why am I always fucking up?
I suppose that I must formulate a plan, based on logic, in order to proceed in the act of distancing myself from those current actions resulting in my own detriment.
For now, I must consider the constraints of my life, and change so as to effect a new and brighter future for myself. But the gravity of the task before me is dissuasive. I try every day, with this conscious directive, but I am haplessly resigned to the realization of my actions made in poor judgement.
I hope I can change. That's all I can hope for.

Change and continuous deformation of logic and perspective

I am wrapping up a long adventure, which took place all over Asia. Tomorrow I return to the US, and I can't say that I'm happy about that! However, the details describing my journeys are immeasurably interesting, and I leave a very satisfied man. But there is still a burning sensation of non-accomplishment serving counterpart to all that I've achieved...
I very much enjoyed my visit to Bhutan. The country is best described as similar to an 'extreme hills forest' biome in Minecraft. The mountains, similarly, are spotted with tiny villages spaced rather uniformly and at only a small displacement from one another - often no more than a single kilometer.
Hawaii and Thailand have been anything but enthralling. Hawaii (at least Oahu, to be accurate) is, quite literally, a tourist TRAP. Since Hawaii is an island, let us envisage that the ocean itself is a wall of its own. Well, guess what? A literal fence serves to enclose all visitors from wandering the natural environment freely! A fence actually blocks you from visiting any undeveloped territory. And guess what's printed on signs affixed to the fences? "NO TRESPASSING. PROPERTY OF US GOVERNMENT. VIOLATORS WILL BE PROSECUTED" (or something on this order!) I have NO respect for American power or influence, and I'll burn my passport when I can finally secure citizenship elsewhere. First, I'll shit on every page, but that's just an added measure of symbolism incidental to its final fate.
And the prices! Holy fuck, I thought Times Square was as high as any business could go in the art of swindling... boy, was I wrong! Honolulu takes every cake in the history of baking. I'll spare you all the intricate details, but I shall here caution that you all take measures to avoid Hawaii unless you're of the 1%. If you have millions of dollars, and like being treated like a slave owner or a king, then I strongly recommend it.
Thailand is only slightly more tolerable - and for many of the same reasons, indeed. People do not know the meaning of "NO" in this country. People will ceaselessly and with great effort solicit you for prostitution, transportation... you name it. Street vendors follow you as puppies follow their mothers if they catch one look of your foreign appearance. It's all about the ฿ in Thailand. Seriously, your life is determined on a metric of wealth. You are a human being so long as you have money here. Once you run out, you become, for all intents and purposes, dead. Have you ever visited Japan, and there experienced a great difficulty getting by with English? Multiply that specific difficulty by a hundred billion billion billion for Thailand. NOBODY speaks ANY English (not even yes, no, or hello)! That assessment isn't entirely fair, nor accurate - I like to use hyperbole a lot, in case that fact hasn't caught your attention - the taxi drivers ALL speak English, and they use is as a weapon of mass annoyance! Otherwise, I've entirely relied on gesture and body language to communicate any rudimentary message whatsoever.
I'm glad to be leaving Thailand, but not particularly happy to be returning to the US. I'll merely enjoy seeing friends and family, but beyond this exists nothing but good cause to leave.

Metamorphosis

Four years ago, I felt as if I belonged somewhere. There was a group out there, a long time ago, that considered me among their ranks. It was unthinkable that they would go out without throwing me an invite. We laughed, we had fun, we stayed out until dawn.
Now, as an older man, I feel isolated from the greater part of society. I feel ostracized because I have unusual habits, and avoided because I have different tastes. Let's face it, people think I'm weird.
In some capacity, I know exactly why they think this way. And yet, I'm always finding myself lost in introspection, trying to figure out what makes me so goddamn unusual.

Maybe it's time for me to embrace who I am, and let everyone else go about their own merry ways. I'm always smirking at the habits of some, finding myself bewildered at the behavior of others. I suppose the treatment towards me is no different, when viewed in this capacity.

Go ahead. Call me weird. Set me apart as an outlier. I am no longer going to consider this a gesture of negativity - rather, you're sparing me the misfortune of interacting with a mind more closed.