(no subject)
I am so fucking sick of myself, as well as everyone else. Which isn't to say that I'm sick of my friends.
It's more of to say, well... I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
It's sort of like, I want to punch a hole in everything that I see. I want to just kick the fuck out of the universe/reality/god.
And that sounds just so angry and mean, and that's not the way that I want to be. But I'm really at the point where I've came to not care about shit so much, that when I do start caring about shit, I worry about if it's even worth it.
Everything that I try to write doesnt do the inside of my mind justice.
Really, I just want to crawl into a corner and sleep for a while. And that sounds so fucking emo, but I really don't give a fuck. Right now I seem torn between fucking it all and killing it all. There's definately the whole angel and devil on my shoulder. On one page theres a small shred of hope, and on the other there's the whole fuck it moto. That's not to say that I take my own ideas too seriously. Although sometimes I worry that I do. I don't want to just fuck it. I really actually want to enjoy this short time that I have here, but I don't think I've ever been able to really enjoy it. Something has always set me apart from IT.
My fucking dad called me today. Which just makes me think about shit even more, and that just makes me either want to cry or punch walls. Or maybe both.
Instead I did neither. I hung out with Jeff and Craig, and got hoed out by Michi and later and a Nay came over. And then I went for a giant walk. Which sort of calmed me down, to the point where I'm not thinking as stupidly at least. But really, the one thing I can't escape is myself, and that's mostly what gets to me.
I've never really felt comfortable just "being".
I don't even feel right within my own skin, not that I ever did to begin with, but I seemed to have faked it pretty well over the past few years. And it's like, everytime I start feeling good, I know that it's just BS. It won't last and never does. From all the angles that life seems to fuck me, I can't find a single way to duck out and hide.
Yet again, I dont know why I even try to rationalize or write out any of this shit, because it never matches the thoughts in my head. And I feel like such a lie all the time. It certainly doesnt help that I'm pretty sure I hate most of mankind... but at the same time I have that part of me that's so hopeful that shit'll work out in the end. There's definatly a line between the two parts of me, and I have no clue which side on I'm on anymore.
All the questions that I have that will never have any answers, except for maybe the crunch. Which seems to answer a lot, but at the same time leaves me in state of "the whole fate of existence is resting on yourself"... and that's never a good thing to realize.
It's more of to say, well... I'm not quite sure how to explain it.
It's sort of like, I want to punch a hole in everything that I see. I want to just kick the fuck out of the universe/reality/god.
And that sounds just so angry and mean, and that's not the way that I want to be. But I'm really at the point where I've came to not care about shit so much, that when I do start caring about shit, I worry about if it's even worth it.
Everything that I try to write doesnt do the inside of my mind justice.
Really, I just want to crawl into a corner and sleep for a while. And that sounds so fucking emo, but I really don't give a fuck. Right now I seem torn between fucking it all and killing it all. There's definately the whole angel and devil on my shoulder. On one page theres a small shred of hope, and on the other there's the whole fuck it moto. That's not to say that I take my own ideas too seriously. Although sometimes I worry that I do. I don't want to just fuck it. I really actually want to enjoy this short time that I have here, but I don't think I've ever been able to really enjoy it. Something has always set me apart from IT.
My fucking dad called me today. Which just makes me think about shit even more, and that just makes me either want to cry or punch walls. Or maybe both.
Instead I did neither. I hung out with Jeff and Craig, and got hoed out by Michi and later and a Nay came over. And then I went for a giant walk. Which sort of calmed me down, to the point where I'm not thinking as stupidly at least. But really, the one thing I can't escape is myself, and that's mostly what gets to me.
I've never really felt comfortable just "being".
I don't even feel right within my own skin, not that I ever did to begin with, but I seemed to have faked it pretty well over the past few years. And it's like, everytime I start feeling good, I know that it's just BS. It won't last and never does. From all the angles that life seems to fuck me, I can't find a single way to duck out and hide.
Yet again, I dont know why I even try to rationalize or write out any of this shit, because it never matches the thoughts in my head. And I feel like such a lie all the time. It certainly doesnt help that I'm pretty sure I hate most of mankind... but at the same time I have that part of me that's so hopeful that shit'll work out in the end. There's definatly a line between the two parts of me, and I have no clue which side on I'm on anymore.
All the questions that I have that will never have any answers, except for maybe the crunch. Which seems to answer a lot, but at the same time leaves me in state of "the whole fate of existence is resting on yourself"... and that's never a good thing to realize.