Eyes Closed
I'm not very comfortable in my own skin. I suppose that's why the idea of loneliness is still stained with tragedy and anguish. At the same time, I'm confronted with the paradoxical despair of introversion and the knee jerk reaction to a constant saturation of humanity.
Nostalgia is so strange. Things were great, but the now becomes lost in the past. How is one supposed to forge memories to be nostalgic about in the future while always constantly reminiscing in the now? I don't like being nostalgic. I hate living my life in sepia, drowned with longing and regret - essentially blind and paralyzed. The rational becomes absurd and impulse becomes rational. Life has been a clusterfuck of imagery. Is it worth it to separate what is real and what isn't? Probably not.
I'm not really concerned with what I should be doing, but rather, what I want to do, which for me is an extremely daunting concept. Being free and responsible is hard. It's impossible to expect anything, let alone want anything. Life is so daunting. I feel like I'm being suffocated by both the past and the future and I'm worried about other people. Worried and scared.
It seems that the only thing left for me to do is plow forward and let things fall into place. Impulse. Action. There is no forwards or backwards and everything amounts to nothing.
Nostalgia is so strange. Things were great, but the now becomes lost in the past. How is one supposed to forge memories to be nostalgic about in the future while always constantly reminiscing in the now? I don't like being nostalgic. I hate living my life in sepia, drowned with longing and regret - essentially blind and paralyzed. The rational becomes absurd and impulse becomes rational. Life has been a clusterfuck of imagery. Is it worth it to separate what is real and what isn't? Probably not.
I'm not really concerned with what I should be doing, but rather, what I want to do, which for me is an extremely daunting concept. Being free and responsible is hard. It's impossible to expect anything, let alone want anything. Life is so daunting. I feel like I'm being suffocated by both the past and the future and I'm worried about other people. Worried and scared.
It seems that the only thing left for me to do is plow forward and let things fall into place. Impulse. Action. There is no forwards or backwards and everything amounts to nothing.