A volte non voglio esistere
Evidently enough, I'm going to rant a little a lot.
I feel like this all the time:
I feel so unstable, volatile and shaky that I feel as if I might start crying, laughing or fainting any time. But most of the time, it's sadness that gets to me. And anxiousness. And nervousness. I don't even know why, I just feel so apprehensive. And I'm so worried. And I keep abusing the ability to use a coordinating conjunction at the beginning of a sentence.
There have been times when I've had breakdowns in the school bathroom or right in the middle of class. And I don't like that feeling.
I try to fix it using the simple way by figuring out what the problems is. For example, if I did badly on a test. I think about it for hours. It destroys me because I know I could have done better and instead of studying I was probably making meaningless posts like this or something else. I makes me so angry at myself.
It has gotten to the point where I cannot even cry anymore; I'm too lazy to, I can't be bothered. I just listen to this amazing thing, lie in my bed and map out the topography of the inside of my eyelids. I reevaluate my life and think
What have I accomplished to be so privileged?
What remarkable thing have I done to have such adoring, loving, caring parents? Amicable and enjoyable friends? The opportunity for education, the power to gain knowledge and wisdom?
I have done absolutely nothing.
And yet, I'm still blessed with all these privileges. I'm not even making proper use of them. I should be so content, so happy and completely satisfied. But I am not.
There are instances when I feel so carefree, liberated and so stupidly happy. Then something happens - I don't know what - and I'm suddenly hit with this...this, I don't even know. Something. Something happens and I'm suddenly reminded that no. No, I'm not happy, content or carefree. I'm absolutely miserable and I'm causing it. It's so pathetic that I drown in my misery because I'm so miserable. And I don't even know why.
I have everything I need, everything I want. Or maybe that's what I think I think. What I really want is happiness and I don't know what will give me that. Whether it be an object, a person, a feeling. Whatever. I'm just so scared, anxious, sad and nervous that I will never find that one thing.
I feel like a fucking stapler. A dumb object that is always running out (of staples) and is fast becoming useless (because of the new cyberworld). Except, I not. I always did suck at personifying or metaphors. Or grammar. Or proper use of vocabulary.
There were very few times when I wanted to die. I don't want to die now. Because it's so stupid!
1) My siblings do NOT deserve a dead sister. They're annoying as shitfuckers but I am not going to even think of putting them through that. I actually care for them more than anything.
2) My parents do not need that shit. I came out of my mom's vagina and she loves me, and my dad loves me and I know for a fact that they love me more than anything. Ever. If I take that one thing away from them...
3) My friends would be upset. They don't need that shit.
4) I do not want to affect the people around me.
Personally, if I could die/disappear/stop existing without consequences, I'd gladly do it. I mean, I'm too lazy to go through life. It's like a horny hermaphrodite - hard and a bitch. For me, I want to be happy. And for that to happen, I need to look for that one thing that would give it to me. You know, work hard, get an education, get a job, career, husband, children, whatever. But that's soooooo much work and it's going to take soooooo long. Longer than 50 years before I die of age.
But people love me, care for me. And I do not want to take away a part of their happiness. That means I have to live and it somewhat gives me incentive to find that one thing of happiness and I want it so fucking bad, I want to cry.
~P
I feel like this all the time:
I feel so unstable, volatile and shaky that I feel as if I might start crying, laughing or fainting any time. But most of the time, it's sadness that gets to me. And anxiousness. And nervousness. I don't even know why, I just feel so apprehensive. And I'm so worried. And I keep abusing the ability to use a coordinating conjunction at the beginning of a sentence.
There have been times when I've had breakdowns in the school bathroom or right in the middle of class. And I don't like that feeling.
I try to fix it using the simple way by figuring out what the problems is. For example, if I did badly on a test. I think about it for hours. It destroys me because I know I could have done better and instead of studying I was probably making meaningless posts like this or something else. I makes me so angry at myself.
It has gotten to the point where I cannot even cry anymore; I'm too lazy to, I can't be bothered. I just listen to this amazing thing, lie in my bed and map out the topography of the inside of my eyelids. I reevaluate my life and think
What have I accomplished to be so privileged?
What remarkable thing have I done to have such adoring, loving, caring parents? Amicable and enjoyable friends? The opportunity for education, the power to gain knowledge and wisdom?
I have done absolutely nothing.
And yet, I'm still blessed with all these privileges. I'm not even making proper use of them. I should be so content, so happy and completely satisfied. But I am not.
There are instances when I feel so carefree, liberated and so stupidly happy. Then something happens - I don't know what - and I'm suddenly hit with this...this, I don't even know. Something. Something happens and I'm suddenly reminded that no. No, I'm not happy, content or carefree. I'm absolutely miserable and I'm causing it. It's so pathetic that I drown in my misery because I'm so miserable. And I don't even know why.
I have everything I need, everything I want. Or maybe that's what I think I think. What I really want is happiness and I don't know what will give me that. Whether it be an object, a person, a feeling. Whatever. I'm just so scared, anxious, sad and nervous that I will never find that one thing.
I feel like a fucking stapler. A dumb object that is always running out (of staples) and is fast becoming useless (because of the new cyberworld). Except, I not. I always did suck at personifying or metaphors. Or grammar. Or proper use of vocabulary.
There were very few times when I wanted to die. I don't want to die now. Because it's so stupid!
1) My siblings do NOT deserve a dead sister. They're annoying as shitfuckers but I am not going to even think of putting them through that. I actually care for them more than anything.
2) My parents do not need that shit. I came out of my mom's vagina and she loves me, and my dad loves me and I know for a fact that they love me more than anything. Ever. If I take that one thing away from them...
3) My friends would be upset. They don't need that shit.
4) I do not want to affect the people around me.
Personally, if I could die/disappear/stop existing without consequences, I'd gladly do it. I mean, I'm too lazy to go through life. It's like a horny hermaphrodite - hard and a bitch. For me, I want to be happy. And for that to happen, I need to look for that one thing that would give it to me. You know, work hard, get an education, get a job, career, husband, children, whatever. But that's soooooo much work and it's going to take soooooo long. Longer than 50 years before I die of age.
But people love me, care for me. And I do not want to take away a part of their happiness. That means I have to live and it somewhat gives me incentive to find that one thing of happiness and I want it so fucking bad, I want to cry.
~P