(no subject)
Tonight, I realized that my mind will be the end of me. No matter how hard I try, I cannot stop thinking. It's been a problem for years, wrecking me emotionally whenever it sees fit. Maybe that's the reason I prefer not to think altogether. I'm not a philosopher, and I never want to be. So why can't I stop analyzing and going over everything in my mind? The human condition is in the palm of my hands, and I don't like it. I don't want to know how bad things are. I just want to forget and live a happy life without troubles. I wish my brain would just give me that chance. At this rate, with all these thoughts I've been having, I don't think I'll make it.
I think my problem is my loneliness. When I'm alone, I think. The solution? Get some friends. My god, do I wish I had friends... I do have friends, but... I want to see them, to hug them, to tell them how much they mean to me, to wash away the time with them, to go on fun adventures with them... They are truly the thing that I've been wishing for, but is it wrong to want more?
If only things were simple. If only I knew the purpose of life, or at least if I could stop thinking about it. I wish for so many things. My heart is full of unattainable desires and it feels as if it's about to burst. Ease and comfort is all I want, though at the same time I know those are the life goals of many. But is that all I can do for now? Am I to commit my whole life in pursuit of such things? If only life wasn't such a chore. Although the song tries to tell me otherwise, I don't think I can reach the point where I can honestly say "It isn't a job." I don't know if I'll ever be that confident.
To live a happy life without troubles. To be without the burdens of this job we call life. I don't think I'll ever get to that point.
Some might say that thinking in this manner is a healthy development of the mind, but I think the opposite is true for me. There is nothing healthy about my mind. It's defective. It's being strangled by the thoughts it creates. It's dangerous.
It's not right. Nothing is right. I just want to scream.
I hate this. I know that in a few days this will all be over and forgotten, but in a few weeks I'll be right back in this position hating myself, hating everyone around me, and hating life itself. It's wrong. It's not supposed to be like this. Am I not supposed to be happy? How can I be happy when I feel so hollow inside? It's like I'm made of clay: I'm fragile. I jabber on about every little thing, but I know that it's just another distraction. I am trying as hard as I can to distract myself, but even that isn't enough anymore. There are so many promises I've made to myself, promises to make myself into something better. But now it seems those promises are empty. I promise myself to change, tell myself I'll be fixed, but they are just hollow pursuits. I don't know what to do anymore.
I just... don't know what to do anymore.
I think my problem is my loneliness. When I'm alone, I think. The solution? Get some friends. My god, do I wish I had friends... I do have friends, but... I want to see them, to hug them, to tell them how much they mean to me, to wash away the time with them, to go on fun adventures with them... They are truly the thing that I've been wishing for, but is it wrong to want more?
If only things were simple. If only I knew the purpose of life, or at least if I could stop thinking about it. I wish for so many things. My heart is full of unattainable desires and it feels as if it's about to burst. Ease and comfort is all I want, though at the same time I know those are the life goals of many. But is that all I can do for now? Am I to commit my whole life in pursuit of such things? If only life wasn't such a chore. Although the song tries to tell me otherwise, I don't think I can reach the point where I can honestly say "It isn't a job." I don't know if I'll ever be that confident.
To live a happy life without troubles. To be without the burdens of this job we call life. I don't think I'll ever get to that point.
Some might say that thinking in this manner is a healthy development of the mind, but I think the opposite is true for me. There is nothing healthy about my mind. It's defective. It's being strangled by the thoughts it creates. It's dangerous.
It's not right. Nothing is right. I just want to scream.
I hate this. I know that in a few days this will all be over and forgotten, but in a few weeks I'll be right back in this position hating myself, hating everyone around me, and hating life itself. It's wrong. It's not supposed to be like this. Am I not supposed to be happy? How can I be happy when I feel so hollow inside? It's like I'm made of clay: I'm fragile. I jabber on about every little thing, but I know that it's just another distraction. I am trying as hard as I can to distract myself, but even that isn't enough anymore. There are so many promises I've made to myself, promises to make myself into something better. But now it seems those promises are empty. I promise myself to change, tell myself I'll be fixed, but they are just hollow pursuits. I don't know what to do anymore.
I just... don't know what to do anymore.