come untie the knot
I became distinctly depressed an hour or so ago.
I'm so discontent with every single aspect of this empty charade of a life I've been leading. School starts Tuesday, and that will do absolutely nothing to enhance any of my moods.
It seems almost that actually enjoying my life, wallowing in its simple pleasures, actually being a PERSON- is beyond the realm of all possibility.
And it's just so damn discouraging that I can't do a single thing to express this to anyone. Even just letting the words flow on this insignificant entry is doing absolutely NOTHING in relieving the pressure of the emotional whirlwind that's been ravaging me from the inside out for the past year of my life.
It started about this time last year.
"What if you could go back in time, and take all those hours of pain and darkness and replace them with something better?"
What if. What if.
Those two words form the most painful, terrifying phrase in the English language. What could I have done in the past to have possibly prevented me from traveling down some of the darker paths I have trespassed onto? Would I have always ended up this unhappy?
I feel like the poster child for the emo, teenage subject of self-pity society of America. Is this just angst? I'm thinking that the series of events that occurred on Tuesday may have proved otherwise? I really don't enjoy being petty, you know.
I've been sitting here for the past 37 minutes thinking of a way to make myself feel better. Or feel something. I'm not exactly sure if what I'm experiencing right now is my inherent lack of emotion or the incessant, nagging ache I deal with. They seem to have somehow blended together to form one ubiquitous smear of... utter shit, really.
Ugh, what an unpleasant mental image.
I get so much worse doing the school year, too. That's what frightens me. If I'm this foul a mood now, what is it going to be like two months from now?
I have a vague feeling that I'm going to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous this year.
It is really frustrating not to be able to tap into my full potential as a writer because I have this constant anxiety over saying what I want to say. Well, it's not necessarily that. It's more along the lines of not being able to articulate what I want to say or what I'm feeling because the emotions are so complex?
I'm not sure. About anything, really.
Except for the fact that I want this all to stop.
It's just too exhausting to bear anymore.
I'm so discontent with every single aspect of this empty charade of a life I've been leading. School starts Tuesday, and that will do absolutely nothing to enhance any of my moods.
It seems almost that actually enjoying my life, wallowing in its simple pleasures, actually being a PERSON- is beyond the realm of all possibility.
And it's just so damn discouraging that I can't do a single thing to express this to anyone. Even just letting the words flow on this insignificant entry is doing absolutely NOTHING in relieving the pressure of the emotional whirlwind that's been ravaging me from the inside out for the past year of my life.
It started about this time last year.
"What if you could go back in time, and take all those hours of pain and darkness and replace them with something better?"
What if. What if.
Those two words form the most painful, terrifying phrase in the English language. What could I have done in the past to have possibly prevented me from traveling down some of the darker paths I have trespassed onto? Would I have always ended up this unhappy?
I feel like the poster child for the emo, teenage subject of self-pity society of America. Is this just angst? I'm thinking that the series of events that occurred on Tuesday may have proved otherwise? I really don't enjoy being petty, you know.
I've been sitting here for the past 37 minutes thinking of a way to make myself feel better. Or feel something. I'm not exactly sure if what I'm experiencing right now is my inherent lack of emotion or the incessant, nagging ache I deal with. They seem to have somehow blended together to form one ubiquitous smear of... utter shit, really.
Ugh, what an unpleasant mental image.
I get so much worse doing the school year, too. That's what frightens me. If I'm this foul a mood now, what is it going to be like two months from now?
I have a vague feeling that I'm going to do something incredibly stupid and dangerous this year.
It is really frustrating not to be able to tap into my full potential as a writer because I have this constant anxiety over saying what I want to say. Well, it's not necessarily that. It's more along the lines of not being able to articulate what I want to say or what I'm feeling because the emotions are so complex?
I'm not sure. About anything, really.
Except for the fact that I want this all to stop.
It's just too exhausting to bear anymore.