Lightning Crashes
I am incredibly unhappy. To the point where I feel like I could burst into tears right here at my desk, right now. Everything was supposed to be different, and for all I know it could be, but I am not different. I am exactly the same, and I am miserable.
I simply don't want to be here. I feel just as unfulfilled and uninterested as I did at the Circus. Just as trapped. I feel like a prisoner. I am unable to have a positive outlook. I am unwilling to let go and just try to deal. I am tired of the whole thing. Offices and hierarchies and bullshit politics. I am tired of my livelihood depending on some post-Industrial Revolution America whose only goal is to sustain it's gluttony by the systematic absorption of human existence into it's pointless redundancy. Is this all that life has to offer?
I am tired of it. Trust me. I am so tried of hearing myself go on and on with the same old whining, victimized drama. I am tired of having no sense of direction. I am tired of feeling this depressed all the time.
The worst feeling of all is that sense of helplessness. That I have no options. That because I fucked up the previous years of my life, I must now face the reality that I cannot make a choice. That in order to exist, I must suffer. I look through the want ads yet again and want to sob over the despair it leaves me feeling. How small and unintelligent and utterly useless society’s requirements make me feel.
I do feel so small right now. All the anticipation and glory has fallen away and I am left here with the reality. With the substandard existence I had before. I should have known I couldn't escape it. I was lying to myself to think otherwise. Lying to myself to get out of the horrible situation I was in, ignoring the truth that every situation is a horrible situation. It's just a matter of which horrible situation you think you can deal with.
I sure sound like I need some drugs and therapy. Don't I. Isn't that always the answer when a person doesn't fit into the "norm" of society. Because I think work is bogus and the state of the world is completely unfulfilling it means that I need to be drugged up and reprogrammed to be more subservient, more agreeable.
If I knew of any other way or any other road, Id like to think Id take it. But, Id probably be too scared. Maybe that is why I feel so naked though, because I cast away the comfort zone of the Circus, however horrible it was, and now I have no comfort zone. I have nothing but this barren agony in my chest suffocating me at the thought of having to spend one more day in this rat race.
I just want to cry so badly right now. It's a good thing I didn't call my mom earlier, because whether she wanted to or not, she would have brought it out in me.
Why be upset? What is so bad about where I am? Am I purposely trying to make it bad to have something to complain about? Do I seek out misery? Is it all my fault?
If it is then it's just one more thing to hate myself for, hence more depression, hence more of a need to sob like a baby.
I've enjoyed life. I do enjoy many aspects of it when I listen to some good music or see new places. When I have moments where worrying is not necessary. I don't want to be that miserable fuck nobody wants to talk to because all he has to say is negative and he cant seem to do anything else but complain. Yet, that is exactly who I am. And everything I dislike right now outweighs anything that gives point to existence.
What do I live for: 5:00, when I get to leave work. Fridays, when I can have two days without working. Lunch, when I can stop working for an hour. Anything and everything that removes me from the reality that, for the rest of my young, functional life, I am required to serve under someone else's agenda for a paycheck by which I can continue to exist.
How can this be the point of life? Let me remove the rest of the millions of society from that statement... How can this be the point of *my* life?
I am seriously, for the next thirty years, supposed to do exactly what I am doing today? And, in accepting that, I am supposed to be a happy, optimistic person? I should spoon it down and say, "thank you sir, may I have some more."
And yet, I sometimes I feel it's not a deficiency on societys part, my childish tirade. What if there really is something wrong with me. What if, what I think are my open eyes and unique perspective, turns out to just be a mental error... an illness with a catchy name that has its own specific pill or 12-step cure.
What can a person do when they come to the conclusion that either they see a world several billion people throughout history were completely blind to, or else its just one person with a mental illness?
I simply don't want to be here. I feel just as unfulfilled and uninterested as I did at the Circus. Just as trapped. I feel like a prisoner. I am unable to have a positive outlook. I am unwilling to let go and just try to deal. I am tired of the whole thing. Offices and hierarchies and bullshit politics. I am tired of my livelihood depending on some post-Industrial Revolution America whose only goal is to sustain it's gluttony by the systematic absorption of human existence into it's pointless redundancy. Is this all that life has to offer?
I am tired of it. Trust me. I am so tried of hearing myself go on and on with the same old whining, victimized drama. I am tired of having no sense of direction. I am tired of feeling this depressed all the time.
The worst feeling of all is that sense of helplessness. That I have no options. That because I fucked up the previous years of my life, I must now face the reality that I cannot make a choice. That in order to exist, I must suffer. I look through the want ads yet again and want to sob over the despair it leaves me feeling. How small and unintelligent and utterly useless society’s requirements make me feel.
I do feel so small right now. All the anticipation and glory has fallen away and I am left here with the reality. With the substandard existence I had before. I should have known I couldn't escape it. I was lying to myself to think otherwise. Lying to myself to get out of the horrible situation I was in, ignoring the truth that every situation is a horrible situation. It's just a matter of which horrible situation you think you can deal with.
I sure sound like I need some drugs and therapy. Don't I. Isn't that always the answer when a person doesn't fit into the "norm" of society. Because I think work is bogus and the state of the world is completely unfulfilling it means that I need to be drugged up and reprogrammed to be more subservient, more agreeable.
If I knew of any other way or any other road, Id like to think Id take it. But, Id probably be too scared. Maybe that is why I feel so naked though, because I cast away the comfort zone of the Circus, however horrible it was, and now I have no comfort zone. I have nothing but this barren agony in my chest suffocating me at the thought of having to spend one more day in this rat race.
I just want to cry so badly right now. It's a good thing I didn't call my mom earlier, because whether she wanted to or not, she would have brought it out in me.
Why be upset? What is so bad about where I am? Am I purposely trying to make it bad to have something to complain about? Do I seek out misery? Is it all my fault?
If it is then it's just one more thing to hate myself for, hence more depression, hence more of a need to sob like a baby.
I've enjoyed life. I do enjoy many aspects of it when I listen to some good music or see new places. When I have moments where worrying is not necessary. I don't want to be that miserable fuck nobody wants to talk to because all he has to say is negative and he cant seem to do anything else but complain. Yet, that is exactly who I am. And everything I dislike right now outweighs anything that gives point to existence.
What do I live for: 5:00, when I get to leave work. Fridays, when I can have two days without working. Lunch, when I can stop working for an hour. Anything and everything that removes me from the reality that, for the rest of my young, functional life, I am required to serve under someone else's agenda for a paycheck by which I can continue to exist.
How can this be the point of life? Let me remove the rest of the millions of society from that statement... How can this be the point of *my* life?
I am seriously, for the next thirty years, supposed to do exactly what I am doing today? And, in accepting that, I am supposed to be a happy, optimistic person? I should spoon it down and say, "thank you sir, may I have some more."
And yet, I sometimes I feel it's not a deficiency on societys part, my childish tirade. What if there really is something wrong with me. What if, what I think are my open eyes and unique perspective, turns out to just be a mental error... an illness with a catchy name that has its own specific pill or 12-step cure.
What can a person do when they come to the conclusion that either they see a world several billion people throughout history were completely blind to, or else its just one person with a mental illness?