I want to become a hermit
Do you ever get to the point where you're just sick of life?
I'm just over everything; I'm tired and bored to death. I go through sporatic spurts of uber-creativity then nothing. I went through a week of working on multiple art pieces (all of which still suck, really), starting up chapter 16 in sp, and brainstorming a few other story ideas. Now everything's still buried inside but it's like it doesn't have the energy to come out or something. I get to the point where nothing will interest me or entertain me and I can't even pull up the desire to want to sleep and I just sit like a hunk of oxygen wasting mass that has no point.
I want to wallow in my anti-socialness and just take my computer and art supplies and a few other necessities into the mountains and be left the freak* alone. (I always find this funny that I don't cuss in real life or from my point of view but I will in my writings and from my characters' points of view. The random oddities that amuse me.) I'm sick of doctors and feeling useless and pity from friends and nagging from the family. I'm tired of having my life on hold with no answers in the forseeable future.
Mostly I'm just sick of who I've become and see myself turning into, such a bitter, lackluster person it's ridiculous.
Is it cowardly to just want to run away from everything for a while?
Forgive my whiney little rant. I just needed a vent where said people in my life won't read it and feel offended, because honestly it's not like anyone's done anything, i'm just tired.
I'm just over everything; I'm tired and bored to death. I go through sporatic spurts of uber-creativity then nothing. I went through a week of working on multiple art pieces (all of which still suck, really), starting up chapter 16 in sp, and brainstorming a few other story ideas. Now everything's still buried inside but it's like it doesn't have the energy to come out or something. I get to the point where nothing will interest me or entertain me and I can't even pull up the desire to want to sleep and I just sit like a hunk of oxygen wasting mass that has no point.
I want to wallow in my anti-socialness and just take my computer and art supplies and a few other necessities into the mountains and be left the freak* alone. (I always find this funny that I don't cuss in real life or from my point of view but I will in my writings and from my characters' points of view. The random oddities that amuse me.) I'm sick of doctors and feeling useless and pity from friends and nagging from the family. I'm tired of having my life on hold with no answers in the forseeable future.
Mostly I'm just sick of who I've become and see myself turning into, such a bitter, lackluster person it's ridiculous.
Is it cowardly to just want to run away from everything for a while?
Forgive my whiney little rant. I just needed a vent where said people in my life won't read it and feel offended, because honestly it's not like anyone's done anything, i'm just tired.