Technology everywhere and not an answer insight
I was reading a manga and the main character was angsting over the fact that everyone around him was set on a goal in life. That they had their future planed out already, and he didn't know what he wanted to do and up until that point he hadn't thought about it. I started to have a panic attack. I mean lately I've been thinking that I have a phobia with moving on.
I can't see myself working in an office or a company...I've worked part time jobs here and there, but a real job, I just don't know what I'll do with myself. Going to school and getting this pretty piece of paper saying that I got a degree and I still can't bring myself to take the next step. Perhaps my self confidence is dwindling at the moment and my imagination is not leading me to picture I want to see.
Perhaps my depression is keeping me from being able to move on, but of course, this is different from my past lows. To go this long with these feelings, I don't know where to start. Its difficult for me to say that, I mean I enjoy fixing things and working on puzzles. Thus where to start is always important in those activities. In reality I know why I can't find the starting line and I need to admit the problem. Only I can't really admit what my problem is because I worked the past 11 months shoving it to the bottom of the draw trying to forget about it. Like radioactive material in comics it just glowed infecting my everyday life and reminds me of it presences every time I open the damn draw.
Picky. Picky. Picky, always trying to do things in order, but this is a time a believe things need to be done in order.
Oh no, perhaps I'm late, and no one told me.
No I think the secret to life is no one has figured it out. That happiness is fleeting, that the questions are never answered only given a brief interlude. That as humans with our conscious and thinking outside of the necessities of life we lose the major happenings in our life. Only to realize it till it's past, and you can only hold on the picture and memories with bittersweet thoughts, but those feelings, actions, words, emotions will never be reenacted again. And memories and pictures will never be enough so we strive to recreate them. Oh woe is me, for its all in vain. The meaning of life, 42, of course it's a number that makes sense.
I'm rambling, chaotic is my nature or perhaps I'm just a masochist...or sadomasochist I can never tell at times.
My life right now I wish I was falling down the rabbit hole...
I can't see myself working in an office or a company...I've worked part time jobs here and there, but a real job, I just don't know what I'll do with myself. Going to school and getting this pretty piece of paper saying that I got a degree and I still can't bring myself to take the next step. Perhaps my self confidence is dwindling at the moment and my imagination is not leading me to picture I want to see.
Perhaps my depression is keeping me from being able to move on, but of course, this is different from my past lows. To go this long with these feelings, I don't know where to start. Its difficult for me to say that, I mean I enjoy fixing things and working on puzzles. Thus where to start is always important in those activities. In reality I know why I can't find the starting line and I need to admit the problem. Only I can't really admit what my problem is because I worked the past 11 months shoving it to the bottom of the draw trying to forget about it. Like radioactive material in comics it just glowed infecting my everyday life and reminds me of it presences every time I open the damn draw.
Picky. Picky. Picky, always trying to do things in order, but this is a time a believe things need to be done in order.
Oh no, perhaps I'm late, and no one told me.
No I think the secret to life is no one has figured it out. That happiness is fleeting, that the questions are never answered only given a brief interlude. That as humans with our conscious and thinking outside of the necessities of life we lose the major happenings in our life. Only to realize it till it's past, and you can only hold on the picture and memories with bittersweet thoughts, but those feelings, actions, words, emotions will never be reenacted again. And memories and pictures will never be enough so we strive to recreate them. Oh woe is me, for its all in vain. The meaning of life, 42, of course it's a number that makes sense.
I'm rambling, chaotic is my nature or perhaps I'm just a masochist...or sadomasochist I can never tell at times.
My life right now I wish I was falling down the rabbit hole...