(no subject)
if someone could just go ahead and shoot me it would make my life a lot easier, just putting it out there. i'm pretty sick and tired of myself at this point, or more accurately, of what i'm doing with my life. a certain girl, faced with the same situation, had the strength to go with her feelings, to go far away, not to find herself, but to find the place where she could be herself. inspiration is a fickle thing, there one moment, and forgotten the next, just another mile marker on life's long highway. i always fantasize, 'maybe i'll do it, yeah, i'm gonna finally go.' it never happens. it never will happen. a wise person once said home is where the heart's at, but what is home? is it a place, something material, something we all can see with our eyes, or rather an idea, a broad concept encompassing more than any single person could imagine? i don't really know where i'm going with this, but i guess that's a microcosm of all my problems in life. i don't rightly know where i'm going with anything, and nowhere always seems like the most likel;y answer.
'death is certain, life is not'
i have so many attachments, so much that i'm afraid to leave behind. mostly people, friends aren't necessarily easy for me to find, and every friend i have is important to me, i'm always thinking of you all, whether or not i know how to show it aside. i feel like i'm out of touch with just about everyone i'm friends with, i don't even feel like calling anyone cause i don't really know what i'd say to them.
self loathing is not a particularly progressive line of thought, but it's also not a particularly easy line of thought to get up out of, especially when you lack the strength to help yourself.
i feel spent, like i've finally become old before my time. this is sad, i shouldn't feel like this. but telling myself what i should and should not feel is a serious problem that i have. a very serious problem.
i don't know that writing this is going to help me with anything, but lack of action just leads to more ambitions unrealized. what ever happened to the boy that was sure he wanted nothing more than to be a writer for the rest of his life?
until 2 days ago, he hadn't written anything in months. the end.
'death is certain, life is not'
i have so many attachments, so much that i'm afraid to leave behind. mostly people, friends aren't necessarily easy for me to find, and every friend i have is important to me, i'm always thinking of you all, whether or not i know how to show it aside. i feel like i'm out of touch with just about everyone i'm friends with, i don't even feel like calling anyone cause i don't really know what i'd say to them.
self loathing is not a particularly progressive line of thought, but it's also not a particularly easy line of thought to get up out of, especially when you lack the strength to help yourself.
i feel spent, like i've finally become old before my time. this is sad, i shouldn't feel like this. but telling myself what i should and should not feel is a serious problem that i have. a very serious problem.
i don't know that writing this is going to help me with anything, but lack of action just leads to more ambitions unrealized. what ever happened to the boy that was sure he wanted nothing more than to be a writer for the rest of his life?
until 2 days ago, he hadn't written anything in months. the end.