Sorry, sorry, sorry, (ok, not that sorry)
I am having another existential crisis, falling into nihilism, blah blah blah.
Although on the plus side, I have officially lost five pounds (apparently that excersize regularly and eat healthy thing really does work) which does a little bit for my entirely nonexistant self-esteem.
Speaking of self-esteem, Steve told me that I am far too down on myself at Emily's birthday party. I try not to make it obvious. I know this: I know I have a horrible self-image, have always had a horrible self-image, and probably always will have a horrible self-image. I KNOW. But knowing doesn't change a damn thing. How the hell am I supposed to change something like that? Self-esteem is something the world cares about when you're five, six years old: still a blank slate with the potential to develop a cure for cancer. Who gives a fuck about that when you're 20? The world is not a forgiving place. (And at the same time, individuals can be very forgiving. Is nothing concrete? I hate it.)
I keep running through comparisons of myself in my head: who I am now with who I used to be. I hate it. I keep vacillating between wanting to burst into tears for no reason and a complete and total lack of caring. If I concentrate hard enough (AKA empty my mind) the latter wins out, which is not a good way of living, but hey, at least I'm still alive.
I remember when I used to actually care about people. I really, honestly had this unshakable faith in humanity. No joke; I was fucking serious about it too. Man, I was so serious about that shit -- I truly believed in it, believed with every single cell in my body. People are inherently people, neither good nor bad, and thus, I can forgive and accept because for every wrong thing, there is a right thing that I don't see. No one is all bad, and thus the universe has balance, etc, etc, etc. God --- what the fuck was with that love for humanity?
I used to have a passion for learning: latin, chemistry, random classes, literature, movies, music. What happened to that? When did I get so stupid? When did I start failing my classes and not being able to concentrate in school. When did I become a C-student.
I used to be so fucking idealistic. I actually used to be this closet hopeless romantic. No joke --- me. A hopeless romantic. Actually believed in love, Romeo and Juliet, thought that kind of thing existed. Never believed it was perfect, but I definitely believed it was real. I used to think that changing the world was possible. That people actually made a difference, you know a small group of committed people can change the world kind of thing. That you should vote democratic because republicans will take away all the social programs and screw over the common man.
I used to care. I used to really fucking care about things. People. Life. Man, I used to have such a passion for my life. I used to take comfort in the fact that regardless of how screwed everything gets, how much has gone wrong, life, it just keeps going on. It goes on, and that used to be beautiful and painful and absolutely perfect in every possible way. And that used to be enough for me: to know that I could take more and more and any and everything; I could handle it, and not only would life go on, but I, I would fucking go on as well. Because as long as I was breathing, I was living, and as long as I was alive, there was always, always hope.
That's all gone now. I look back and wonder if it could have been part of some self-fulfilling prophecy, delivered to me early one morning with the first sign of the sun.
Life goes on. Jesus, how fucking awful is that. It just goes on and on and on and on and on...and it doesn't stop, it doesn't change, it doesn't get better or worse, it just oscillates between good and bad, it just flattens out, it just is what it is. And in the prospect of infinity, nothing can matter. It really is the same story again and again.
And I have stopped caring. I have stopped caring about everything. I have this complete lack of passion for anything. The only time I even feel something, the last hint of humanity, the last taste of a soul, is when I am irrationally consumed with hatred. How pathetic I've become.
I don't even know if this is a problem or not. All I know is that I look at myself in the mirror, and I just can't understand who is looking back at me. I can't even connect myself with myself any more. I kind of just sit here, like I think my life is infinite.
I just don't understand how this happened. When did this happen??? How did this happen?? Is this what growing up is all about? Is this how things will be from now on?
And the image of a pin that my friend has fastened on her bag keeps popping into my head: "Apathy Kills." Yeah, maybe it does.
Although on the plus side, I have officially lost five pounds (apparently that excersize regularly and eat healthy thing really does work) which does a little bit for my entirely nonexistant self-esteem.
Speaking of self-esteem, Steve told me that I am far too down on myself at Emily's birthday party. I try not to make it obvious. I know this: I know I have a horrible self-image, have always had a horrible self-image, and probably always will have a horrible self-image. I KNOW. But knowing doesn't change a damn thing. How the hell am I supposed to change something like that? Self-esteem is something the world cares about when you're five, six years old: still a blank slate with the potential to develop a cure for cancer. Who gives a fuck about that when you're 20? The world is not a forgiving place. (And at the same time, individuals can be very forgiving. Is nothing concrete? I hate it.)
I keep running through comparisons of myself in my head: who I am now with who I used to be. I hate it. I keep vacillating between wanting to burst into tears for no reason and a complete and total lack of caring. If I concentrate hard enough (AKA empty my mind) the latter wins out, which is not a good way of living, but hey, at least I'm still alive.
I remember when I used to actually care about people. I really, honestly had this unshakable faith in humanity. No joke; I was fucking serious about it too. Man, I was so serious about that shit -- I truly believed in it, believed with every single cell in my body. People are inherently people, neither good nor bad, and thus, I can forgive and accept because for every wrong thing, there is a right thing that I don't see. No one is all bad, and thus the universe has balance, etc, etc, etc. God --- what the fuck was with that love for humanity?
I used to have a passion for learning: latin, chemistry, random classes, literature, movies, music. What happened to that? When did I get so stupid? When did I start failing my classes and not being able to concentrate in school. When did I become a C-student.
I used to be so fucking idealistic. I actually used to be this closet hopeless romantic. No joke --- me. A hopeless romantic. Actually believed in love, Romeo and Juliet, thought that kind of thing existed. Never believed it was perfect, but I definitely believed it was real. I used to think that changing the world was possible. That people actually made a difference, you know a small group of committed people can change the world kind of thing. That you should vote democratic because republicans will take away all the social programs and screw over the common man.
I used to care. I used to really fucking care about things. People. Life. Man, I used to have such a passion for my life. I used to take comfort in the fact that regardless of how screwed everything gets, how much has gone wrong, life, it just keeps going on. It goes on, and that used to be beautiful and painful and absolutely perfect in every possible way. And that used to be enough for me: to know that I could take more and more and any and everything; I could handle it, and not only would life go on, but I, I would fucking go on as well. Because as long as I was breathing, I was living, and as long as I was alive, there was always, always hope.
That's all gone now. I look back and wonder if it could have been part of some self-fulfilling prophecy, delivered to me early one morning with the first sign of the sun.
Life goes on. Jesus, how fucking awful is that. It just goes on and on and on and on and on...and it doesn't stop, it doesn't change, it doesn't get better or worse, it just oscillates between good and bad, it just flattens out, it just is what it is. And in the prospect of infinity, nothing can matter. It really is the same story again and again.
And I have stopped caring. I have stopped caring about everything. I have this complete lack of passion for anything. The only time I even feel something, the last hint of humanity, the last taste of a soul, is when I am irrationally consumed with hatred. How pathetic I've become.
I don't even know if this is a problem or not. All I know is that I look at myself in the mirror, and I just can't understand who is looking back at me. I can't even connect myself with myself any more. I kind of just sit here, like I think my life is infinite.
I just don't understand how this happened. When did this happen??? How did this happen?? Is this what growing up is all about? Is this how things will be from now on?
And the image of a pin that my friend has fastened on her bag keeps popping into my head: "Apathy Kills." Yeah, maybe it does.