and every kind of memory - with strings that tie to you
a simple fact
i suck at life. i cant keep myself organized, or doing what i think i need to be doing. its probably that perpetual carrot on a stick that i create for myself. who the fuck am i and why am i here? it twists my gut/heart/soul when i think on what i have gone through and what i have done. i am not even close to who i am in my mind. i dont have alot of friends and less friends in passing than normal. i should care but i just watch it slip away, and it seems fine to me. the fact is, i can go about this alone, but i wont let myself. i miss the girls that helped me through when i was younger. these days i really am alone, and its shitty. im writing this post because i somehow want these words to become a reality, as if the cry for help somehow embedded within these words will become a reality. It wont and I keep on going on, a bit worse for the wear each day, kind of. Thats the shittiest thing in the whole world. You get hurt, you fail, you become lesser, and time will move on and youre stuck there trying to grasp the peices of a reality that might not have even been, but you still grasp and the imagined wound becomes real. Memory is a bitch, and its great. I hate the fact that I contradict myself in every sentence. How happy is the blameless vessels lot? The world forgetting by the world forgot. Each prayer accepted, each wish resigned. Despite the fact I suck at sex/romance [ie fatty and relationship]. Somewhere in my life i became a man who rejected his intuitions because i really want a life where I am not compelled to do things that show me beauty. Despite myself, I find those things and bleh, here I am. 2:14 am and writing a post in mah livejournal. When I dont have "triggers" around me, I become numb and ignore this monkey business. I dont know who I am. I ignore the last few years of my life because theyre inadequate. I got a 4.0 or close to one this semester, which should make me happy. Instead I know that I am no where what I could be. Coudl I even be that? who the fuck knows. Im 22 years old, I feel alot better than I have, but im fucking lost. I feel this nagging sorrow/emptiness inside of me. Still, whatever the fuck has saved my ass so many times is still with me and I wonder why. Jesus god, I am no where near as competent with life as I thought I'd be. Despite the fact I am the quintessential fool, in all of its aspects, I really do fucking suck at this monkey business. I mean that in the most optimistic way though. Ugh.
Anyways, I saw Pans Labyrinth last night. There were a whole bunch of UCI scene kids there. I nearly shot myself in the face because I realized I still dress the same fucking way as them. Superficial, yes. THIS was truly the most pointless part of the post. I guess Im attached to a past that was more and less than I had wanted. Hmmm. Fuck this last part about UCI. The lyrics I always find the most profound these days are "row row your boat merily down the stream, gently, gently, life is but a dream" i edit out the last few years of my life but those are who i am to an extent. bleh. sleep. resolution for this will come when i am dead, or when i find the one i love, if ever.
i suck at life. i cant keep myself organized, or doing what i think i need to be doing. its probably that perpetual carrot on a stick that i create for myself. who the fuck am i and why am i here? it twists my gut/heart/soul when i think on what i have gone through and what i have done. i am not even close to who i am in my mind. i dont have alot of friends and less friends in passing than normal. i should care but i just watch it slip away, and it seems fine to me. the fact is, i can go about this alone, but i wont let myself. i miss the girls that helped me through when i was younger. these days i really am alone, and its shitty. im writing this post because i somehow want these words to become a reality, as if the cry for help somehow embedded within these words will become a reality. It wont and I keep on going on, a bit worse for the wear each day, kind of. Thats the shittiest thing in the whole world. You get hurt, you fail, you become lesser, and time will move on and youre stuck there trying to grasp the peices of a reality that might not have even been, but you still grasp and the imagined wound becomes real. Memory is a bitch, and its great. I hate the fact that I contradict myself in every sentence. How happy is the blameless vessels lot? The world forgetting by the world forgot. Each prayer accepted, each wish resigned. Despite the fact I suck at sex/romance [ie fatty and relationship]. Somewhere in my life i became a man who rejected his intuitions because i really want a life where I am not compelled to do things that show me beauty. Despite myself, I find those things and bleh, here I am. 2:14 am and writing a post in mah livejournal. When I dont have "triggers" around me, I become numb and ignore this monkey business. I dont know who I am. I ignore the last few years of my life because theyre inadequate. I got a 4.0 or close to one this semester, which should make me happy. Instead I know that I am no where what I could be. Coudl I even be that? who the fuck knows. Im 22 years old, I feel alot better than I have, but im fucking lost. I feel this nagging sorrow/emptiness inside of me. Still, whatever the fuck has saved my ass so many times is still with me and I wonder why. Jesus god, I am no where near as competent with life as I thought I'd be. Despite the fact I am the quintessential fool, in all of its aspects, I really do fucking suck at this monkey business. I mean that in the most optimistic way though. Ugh.
Anyways, I saw Pans Labyrinth last night. There were a whole bunch of UCI scene kids there. I nearly shot myself in the face because I realized I still dress the same fucking way as them. Superficial, yes. THIS was truly the most pointless part of the post. I guess Im attached to a past that was more and less than I had wanted. Hmmm. Fuck this last part about UCI. The lyrics I always find the most profound these days are "row row your boat merily down the stream, gently, gently, life is but a dream" i edit out the last few years of my life but those are who i am to an extent. bleh. sleep. resolution for this will come when i am dead, or when i find the one i love, if ever.