everything is going wrong. or maybe that’s teenage melodrama speaking. the tendency to dramatize and think of things in terms of a perennial struggle is tempting when in all actuality we are, each of us, pushing boulders up mountains to watch them tumble back down repetitively.
how could we not? i am trying to force even the slightest few tears out of my eyes and it’s working, futilely. maybe a few drops or so. likely all my body can stomach. or maybe i have a tear deficiency, what would i know.
i am watching the ambiguous motions fade in and out of existence and trying each time to grab them but losing my grip.
half of me is enthralled by the vision, the mysticism, the transcendence, the cultural revolution, the self actualization, the passion, romanticism, the human identity in it’s purest form, but half of me is just,
blank. ambivalent. confused. lonely. pitiful. insecure. pained.
maybe caught in bitter expectation. speculation. insert synonym here. planning, always planning, always conceptualizing, always idealizing. never confronting.
and the futility of it all constantly looming above my head.
underneath the glamor, the romanticism, i’m just a fucking tired, sick and lonely soul. i am desperately lonely. and constantly confronted with how solitary my life is. my only friends are the ones in my head, the dreams, the visions, the ropes. how could i be so spoiled and incapable of satisfying.
i have been neglecting myself, the feelings that produce posts such as these. i have been burying them in arrogance, in detachment, in rationalization, in pretense, in spite. but below it all, i’m just fucking lonely. i am lonely and confused. and there is something missing that has been tragically ignored.
have anice night.