Hooray for losing it...definitely just yelled into an empty car while sitting in my driveway for 20 minutes. I feel so effing USELESS sometimes. Even when I give something 130%, all it takes is a tiny little flick from an outside force and POOF! Back again. Man, it would be so easy to just say fuck it and forget it, but nope. I have to be a stubborn jackass about everything. Oh well. I'll sit here and stew in my pot of apathetic loser-ness by myself as usual, thank you very much. I'll get the fuck over it.

Frankly my dear, I'm scared out of my fucking mind.

I find it sad and pathetic that I let things like this get to me, but God dammit I'm scared. I feel like I'm on the edge of a knife, just waiting to fall off. And instead of getting up and trying to do something about it I sit here at my computer and rant into cyberspace to a blinking cursor, as if it will help. I just have this nagging feeling in my chest that something will go wrong. It has to. What have I done to deserve anything good in my life? What debt have I paid to society? More importantly, who gives a flying fuck? Son of a bitch. Why fucking bother.

On a better note, the one person that actually reads this self-absorbed nonsense happens to be the only person that grounds me to this world. Thank you.

Fuck

Have you ever been rolling along on top of the fucking world and then someone (could be anyone) tells you something new. It doesn't have to be a big something. In fact, when you really look at it, its quite trivial. But it is there nonetheless. It acts like a parasite. One minute, everything is great, but the next there's this little nagging suspicion. It whispers at you and nags and pokes till it gains a little power...then it becomes doubt. Now doubt is a little bigger force to be reckoned with. Doubt has the ability to affect even the purest of emotions sometimes, however indirectly. You may still feel the same way (completely, absolutely, forever) but in the presence of doubt, you begin to pit it against other emotions, such as self loathing, inadequacy, feeeaaarrrr...the fear that you might be living a lie. The fear that everything you know might be a lie. Or even worse...the feeling that you might just be some freak...a pathetic, psychotically obsessed piece of shit that over thinks everything because you don't know how to cope with hearing said little piece of information.

I guess what I'm saying is maybe I should start being a little more selective of what I believe. But...the question remains, who to trust? The informant, or the subject of the information?

I'm sorry. I really do care. And I miss you.

IAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONEIAMNOTAFUCKINGWRENCHWHYAMITRYINGTOBEONE

If apathy were a crime, I believe that I'd be in federal prison.

I think that I have finally come to a place where I cannot move. Every single step feels like it's through a thick wall of sticky syrup. I can't wake up because I don't want to. Every waking moment is a chore...completely unnecessary. How do you fight that?

I focus on the most mundane things...and it makes me sick. Why the hell do I worry so much? Why let something completely occupy 98% of your thoughts when you can't change a single thing about it? I haven't had something take up this much of my brain EVER. EEEEVVVEEERRR. It's like a damn stick stuck in the gears of my life.

I have no fucking clue

You awaken, but without the strength to open your eyes yet. Your only company is that strange buzzing noise that accompanies complete and utter silence. You are aware of your body...somewhat, and of the fact that you are unclothed. You are floating in nothing...completely unsupported, uncaring. As your mind awakens, you wonder why it is you are there, and why you are floating. Suddenly, you feel the floor beneath you, as if it had always been there...but it's strange. At first it seems to be the same temperature as your body, but it takes no heat. Where your weight would normally compress your skin, bones, and muscles into the floor, you simply rest on the single molecules that make contact with the floor. The floor just simply exists. Finally, your eyelids overcome their lethargy and slide open, but it is complete and utter blackness that greets you. Though you strain to see, only phantom images swim before you. Ironically...you feel no fear. The darkness you are accustomed to usually embodies the unknown...the ultimate blend of discovery and fear. This darkness, however absolute, encompasses absolutely nothing at all. Intuitively, you sense that the darkness is only as you imagine it, first a blanket of blackness that leaves you barely enough room for shallow breaths (but do you really need to breathe?), then a vast empty chamber, then just a small room. Your eyes convey only blackness, but you sense the area around you. You sit up slowly...just enough to regain your sense of orientation. Suddenly, gravity exists again, as though it were there to assist your mind's acceptance of your surroundings. Where a normal body would exhibit signs of deep sleep, you feel wide awake, no need for excrement, no hunger, not even the itch of eyes stuck together with the congealed mixture of dust and corneal lubricant.

"I wish I could see..."

And then there was light. It resonates from anywhere and everywhere, filling the darkness that is your world. You are not startled. In fact, your state of mind could be considered nothing else than completely content. You consider standing only to find that you already are, supported by legs that could stand for an eternity. You look downward to see that the floor exists only where you need it, where you will it to be. Your nakedness disconcerts you...and suddenly you are clothed in a simple loose tunic. "Why am I here?" you speak aloud.

"Because you are, and always will be."

The voice resonates from everywhere, and nowhere. It is in your mind and in your soul, but it doesn't hurt at all.

"You exist because you will it. As your soul was contained in your body, so has it now been freed. You are everything, as everything is a part of you. This is your world. Shape it as you will."

So sooner had the thought entered your mind than you suddenly stood on a beautiful island, the ocean lapping at the shore. If someone had said "Imagine an island" to you, this would be the place. It is absolutely perfect. Suddenly, the perfect rolling meadow, a tropical rain forest, a beautiful canyon. From your mind the world explodes around you, as perfect as you deem it to be. Untamed, unmastered. And then the creatures! Birds, beasts, fish...all from your mind. But why stop there? Dragons, with huge magical wings and hides of jewels. A beautiful city of mer-people. Giants, peagasi, flying sea serpents, MAGIC! "WHY NOT?! WHY SHALL IT NOT BE?!" Nations are created, nations of people. Not just humans, no. elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, and more. On a whim, scaly creatures that seem to blend in with the night, save for their glowing yellow eyes. Elemental beings that thrive in lava flows, or floating in clouds, or flowing through rivers. Races of talking animals. Huge creatures that balance themselves on eight legs as thick as hundred year old oak trees as they stride across the great planes that they rule. More, more, more...And who to rule this reality but you? It is, after all, the product of your will. Your world. You are the master of this world, and it will bend its will to your whim...

This realm is familiar to us all...the realm of the mind. Though you may not be able to bend the area outside of your skull, inside, you are the master. You are in control, and it is the only place in this universe that this is true. Seize it...use it. It is your only weapon.

I have finally woken up. I took a look around today and decided that none of this matters anymore. No longer will I steep myself in a life that does not suit me. No longer will I lie to myself, saying its going to be alright. No longer will I allow myself to slip down the path of hatred. It's all over. Done with.

That gut feeling...

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Are you satisfied? Do you see failure? I'm not talking about the outside. The external you is only a ghost of what you have to offer; the tip of the iceberg. I want to know what I'm going to find when I stare deep into your eyes and catch a glimpse of your soul. Can you tell me? I seriously doubt that. When was the last time you took a step back from the ongoing painting that is your life, and carefully examined each little brush stroke that defines you? Lately I've had this horrid pain in my stomach that won't go away. It's creeping into every aspect of my life and eating away at what meager enthusiasm I have left for this world. I feel stretched thin...like butter over too much bread. The more I search for the cause, the cloudier my brain gets and the more the answer eludes my grasp. I need help. I need someone to hand me a magnifying glass to see my painting...something to critique my skill with the brush. It hurts to feel weak, but I'm sick and tired of being the sole source of rationality among my relations. Its too taxing to cope with people that refuse to accept that I am indeed a human, with human emotions and a human level of stamina. God...I'm sorry. I know I ask too much, and I really don't deserve your help anymore, but please give me a hint. Show me how to do it, just this once. I know you're listening...you always do. Its not fair to ask my friends and loved ones anymore... and I don't know where else to turn. For some reason, it feels more productive to post this on the internet, as if you'll read it somehow. Thanks...if you do. I'm sorry for wasting what gifts you've given me and for being a bad person. I just...need SOMETHING

At what point does your life become unhealthy? When are you allowed to say fuck it, crawl in your turtle shell and just stop? And more importantly...how in the world do you let it get that bad? The Americans in the past had to worry about drinking dirty water, because they might die from cholera. But! As the ages of technological advancement eliminate one problem, we find another. This time, Ourselves! All we need now is just some bull shit in our life, and we get SO FUCKING STRESSED that we stop eating. Just start wasting away as the damned needle points further and further to the left. You stare at it ashamed, feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the world, but it just keeps on ticking backwards, like a clock ticking down into nothing, sucking you into the void that you hate so much. The thought of food disgusts you, not because its going to make you fat, but because an hour later some other bullshit is going to come along that will stress you the fuck out and make you give it back to the world unprocessed (such a kind soul he is, open your mouths little birdies!). I don't even know what the hell I'm doing writing this, it isn't like it'll even help.

Why?

Why do we automatically think that our problems are the worst? Isn't it possible that someone out there has it worse than you? Maybe if we opened our minds a little and actually LOOKED AROUND rather than sitting in a box, we would be able to appreciate the things we have that others don't. Life is a fucking garden baby, so dig it. Don't sit around in the damned fertilizer and rot away. You want something good to come from your life, then make it happen. There are very few things in this world the human imagination cannot create. You are your own worst enemy when it comes to your dreams being shattered. The only person telling you NO is you. So quit saying it! Just stop! And quit complaining! Stand up for yourself. You wana fix something, then do it. I can't take it any more. People want you to hand them a better life. "Fix my problems, stop other people from hurting me." YOU ARE THE ONE THAT ALLOWS IT. So just fucking stop it, and stop complaining about it.
your asshole friend,
yourself