Alive and well. Not that anyone cares.
Title's loaded with too much emotional blackmail, eh?
But, really, I miss having to miss things I used to do. You know why?
Because I'm happily contented with the things I used to take for granted.
Things like loneliness and solitude and the introverted viewpoint and watching the world dissolve into madness and keeping to myself or to someone else that I definitely want to be around with me and be with for the rest of time and all this shitty insanity that I get from just being myself and I just don't know what I'm saying anymore.
A-fucking-hem.
Fact of the matter is, I don't miss the world at all. I don't see joy in the things I used to do. It seems I've changed. In light of the boy I used to be--that stupid nincompoop who never believed that things *do* change--I'm a fucking travesty of who he is. He must be hanging himself shitless right now.
So, yeah, I took for granted the reality of who I think I really am. And who I tried to do away with. Recently, I've discovered that driving around alone, reading my books alone, and playing my games alone (actually, 'alone' is relative since, personally, it just describes the space I allow myself to be in... or who is in that space) aren't actually all too bad. I took them for granted when I tried to find solace in the presence of a multitude. Which I don't really belong in anyway. I'm this nail that stands out way too much that I turned to a dick. Insert a mandatory 'haha' here. Haha. There.
Fuck off, world. It's nearing sunrise and I have no qualms about going to school with a heavy and sleepy head. Tata.
But, really, I miss having to miss things I used to do. You know why?
Because I'm happily contented with the things I used to take for granted.
Things like loneliness and solitude and the introverted viewpoint and watching the world dissolve into madness and keeping to myself or to someone else that I definitely want to be around with me and be with for the rest of time and all this shitty insanity that I get from just being myself and I just don't know what I'm saying anymore.
A-fucking-hem.
Fact of the matter is, I don't miss the world at all. I don't see joy in the things I used to do. It seems I've changed. In light of the boy I used to be--that stupid nincompoop who never believed that things *do* change--I'm a fucking travesty of who he is. He must be hanging himself shitless right now.
So, yeah, I took for granted the reality of who I think I really am. And who I tried to do away with. Recently, I've discovered that driving around alone, reading my books alone, and playing my games alone (actually, 'alone' is relative since, personally, it just describes the space I allow myself to be in... or who is in that space) aren't actually all too bad. I took them for granted when I tried to find solace in the presence of a multitude. Which I don't really belong in anyway. I'm this nail that stands out way too much that I turned to a dick. Insert a mandatory 'haha' here. Haha. There.
Fuck off, world. It's nearing sunrise and I have no qualms about going to school with a heavy and sleepy head. Tata.