(no subject)
Not to harp on an already overdone subject here, but I'm so sick of being lonely. I got short with a friend tonite because I just couldn't stand to hear him talk about how he always gets to spend time with people, with physical and emotional contact. I hated him a little. I don't like feeling this way, and I certainly don't like risking friendships because of issues that are totally and completely my own. It's actually starting to become physically painful. Have you ever wanted something so much that you pour all your heart and soul into it, only be left reeling when it doesn't happen? It's kind of like that, every day. I crave contact, emotional connections, hell, even something shallow and meaningless just so I won't be alone. I'm aware this is a self-destructive pattern, an emotional rut, possibly even something I've concocted purely in my head but to feel this vacant day in, day out, it starts to take its toll. I do it to myself too, of course. People try to connect, to get close but I get scared and scheme away in my subconcious, to figure out how I can possibly push them away for good.
I'm trying to change myself, to be more self-reliant, self-aware, self-anything really. Sometimes I think that it's easier to change the world than it is to change how a person really thinks. When it comes to changing something about myself I feel like I'm trying to push a rudder that's the size of the world with a twig. I think it could be the official definition of "hopeless". I'm in danger of spiralling back into depression, if I'm not already there. I want to be happy, I deserve to be happy, so why the hell can't I let it happen? What events could have possibly happened in the past few years to so shake my faith in both myself and humanity as a whole? I have suspicions, but honestly looking back, really looking back I don't think I can blame any particular event or person. Sure, I'm sure they contributed, but I don't think I was truly happy before the shit hit the fan. At least if I was, I can't remember it.
I feel as though I allot myself a certain amount of time per year to be content. Once that time is up, regardless how I feel about a person or situation, I find some way to end it with a total and absolute finality. The time varies, of course, it's never a set number. Naturally, when the year begins I have no idea how much time I'm allowed before I sink into old habits. It hits me like a ton of bricks, sometimes proverbially oftentimes with a sort of rough psuedo-physical trauma that leaves me breathless, crying about how bitterly unfair my life is. When really, I may not lead the best life, but there are people out there in situations that are a hell of a lot worse than mine. So compound guilt with the general malaise and rancor that make up my days and I'm just unreachable. Really, who would want to actually connect with someone who is surly, devious to a fault when it comes to self-saboutage, far to sarcastic for anything outside of standup comedy, and plagued with such doubts about his appearance and self-worth that I almost constantly feel the need to put myself down just for the possibility of a compliment.
i'm an emotional wreck
beneath the shoals
watch your charts
your sonar
your common sense
because if you aren't careful
you'll flounder
sink
beneath the murky grey
waves of a sea
of self-doubt
rocked by a storm
of such pure anger
that it's a miracle
anything manages to survive
for long
i have no idea how i've
held on as long as
i have, maybe
i'm in my element
or could it be
that this is who
i really am
that my hazel-blue eyes
are just the reflection
of the turmoil inside
my head
and not full of soul
at all but
so filled with piss
and vinegar
that it finally had no place
left to go
except the one place
people can see
if thats the case
these eyes are my lighthouses
they say
'stay away, dangerous waters'
there's rocks beneath the surface
that will scrape
wound
kill with ridicule
with an infectious pessimism
no man is an island
because no man
can resist
this overbearing flood
of crazy
I'm trying to change myself, to be more self-reliant, self-aware, self-anything really. Sometimes I think that it's easier to change the world than it is to change how a person really thinks. When it comes to changing something about myself I feel like I'm trying to push a rudder that's the size of the world with a twig. I think it could be the official definition of "hopeless". I'm in danger of spiralling back into depression, if I'm not already there. I want to be happy, I deserve to be happy, so why the hell can't I let it happen? What events could have possibly happened in the past few years to so shake my faith in both myself and humanity as a whole? I have suspicions, but honestly looking back, really looking back I don't think I can blame any particular event or person. Sure, I'm sure they contributed, but I don't think I was truly happy before the shit hit the fan. At least if I was, I can't remember it.
I feel as though I allot myself a certain amount of time per year to be content. Once that time is up, regardless how I feel about a person or situation, I find some way to end it with a total and absolute finality. The time varies, of course, it's never a set number. Naturally, when the year begins I have no idea how much time I'm allowed before I sink into old habits. It hits me like a ton of bricks, sometimes proverbially oftentimes with a sort of rough psuedo-physical trauma that leaves me breathless, crying about how bitterly unfair my life is. When really, I may not lead the best life, but there are people out there in situations that are a hell of a lot worse than mine. So compound guilt with the general malaise and rancor that make up my days and I'm just unreachable. Really, who would want to actually connect with someone who is surly, devious to a fault when it comes to self-saboutage, far to sarcastic for anything outside of standup comedy, and plagued with such doubts about his appearance and self-worth that I almost constantly feel the need to put myself down just for the possibility of a compliment.
i'm an emotional wreck
beneath the shoals
watch your charts
your sonar
your common sense
because if you aren't careful
you'll flounder
sink
beneath the murky grey
waves of a sea
of self-doubt
rocked by a storm
of such pure anger
that it's a miracle
anything manages to survive
for long
i have no idea how i've
held on as long as
i have, maybe
i'm in my element
or could it be
that this is who
i really am
that my hazel-blue eyes
are just the reflection
of the turmoil inside
my head
and not full of soul
at all but
so filled with piss
and vinegar
that it finally had no place
left to go
except the one place
people can see
if thats the case
these eyes are my lighthouses
they say
'stay away, dangerous waters'
there's rocks beneath the surface
that will scrape
wound
kill with ridicule
with an infectious pessimism
no man is an island
because no man
can resist
this overbearing flood
of crazy