|you probably just shouldn't read this at all.
||[Dec. 4th, 2008|09:31 pm]
I hate when I have hours and hours of idle time where my mind runs wild and away from me. I hate having time to think about everything that's wrong and everything I believe and everything that will never ever happen not in a million years never. My head and my heart are constantly at war. My soul is separate from both of them. Just don't pay any attention to any of this, okay? I'm just rambling. Always, always.|
"They" always say that life isn't worth living without love. I've heard it somewhere, I know it. Someone wrote it sometime. A lot of people believe it. But if it's true, than what's the point of living if love is the one truly unattainable thing for me in my whole life? I am a perfect little product of my upbringing. I'm not saying that someone someday won't be able to love me (although it's entirely possible). What I'm saying is that when and if that person comes, I will inevitably love them more, and even that won't be enough to keep me. I was not brought up to believe that anything, especially love, could last forever. Hell, from what I've seen, it doesn't even last a while. But the love I want is the kind that lasts forever. That's almost suffocating in its intensity... but I already know with every fiber of my being I'll never find it. And so I'll keep wandering in and out of conditional relationships, searching aimlessly, maybe breaking some hearts, but mostly just shattering my own. Time and time again.
Lately I'm finding it hard to really care about anything. Even things I'm supposed to care about, especially those things. The future looks bleak and empty and I don't care. I have nowhere to live when I get home and I actually don't care. I should probably start school and take steps towards starting my life but I don't want to and I don't care about that either. It's winter, and as usual, I'm bound to be in a "low" mood. But this is different than before. Than all the other times. This isn't the crippling, suffocating, isolating depression I'm used to feeling this time of year. I don't burst into tears over nothing. I don't cry about anything at all. I don't feel like separating myself from my friends because I feel worthless and horrible. I don't feel worthless and horrible. I don't feel anything. I feel absolutely empty and void. An empty space. An empty life. Empty. Empty. Emptying.
I talked to my aunt recently about starting school. I feel like I should go, even though I'm not motivated whatsoever to do so and I actually don't want to be anything when I "grow up". She asked me what I planned on taking and I said I didn't know. I said maybe Social Work but I don't really want to be a Social Worker. I said maybe Theater but I don't want to work in theater. I said maybe film but I don't want to work in film. I said maybe writing but everything I write is shit and I don't feel like putting in the effort to get better, so I don't want to be a writer. She then asked me what made me happy. Told me that would help me decide, but I honestly could not think of one single thing career-wise. There is absolutely no job in the world I can think of that I want. I just want to do nothing, and I am actually okay with that. If I could sit at home all day and do absolutely nothing, that would be the job I want. It's probably because I'm lazy... whatever.
I think I need help, but help costs money and there are other people so much more worse off than I am, so I don't want help. I'm sure I'll figure myself out sooner or later, and if I don't, I'll pretend that I have.
But this is just nonsense anyways.