“i don’t know what i’m doing” i whisper to myself in a sing songy sort of way. I let myself get to this point of absolute discomfort; I know it’s up to me to dig myself out of this rut. It’s plain to see, the steps I need to take to get back to 0, back to neutral. I’m so deep in the negative, everyday I sink further, despair despair. I believe I can pull myself out though.
But then what? “hahahahahahahaha” he laughs maniacally to himself. I find a nice bachelor or 1 bedroom apartment and move in for jan 1st but then what. I’ll be a lot more comfortable sure but then eventually, once I’m warm again, ‘then what?’ will be asked.
I can’t be with people, it’s plain as day. There are so many tribes out there and I can’t force myself to fit into any of them. I’m just not interested in the things other people do. We’re all part of the problem and acting as if we’re not.
What the hell is wrong with idealism? It bugs me when others scoff at my ideas of a better world. It’s not hard! I would just like some leaders with common sense, who *gasp* work for the people and put their welfare above anything else.
I know everyone has bad dreams about a New World Order and Big Brother but I’d welcome a user friendly version of that for our globe.
But then there’s the religious, and the power hungry, and so on and so forth.
The thing about it is, I can’t stand talking to people because all they want to talk about is each others lives, what we’re doing and so on. When people find out that I’m .. what am I exactly?
I’m cold. Adam Corolla said that if the average religious person truly believed in their given faith and that a prize awaited them at the end of the tunnel, they wouldn’t act the way they do by leading such hypocritical lives. They think they believe it but they don’t truly feel it.
I feel nihilism. I feel the freedom it offers, starting to see the controls and am teaching myself how to pilot through life differently. I feel I’m on the road to enlightenment at the very least, but what good is it doing me?
I feel so much in my guts that nothing happens after I die that now when I look down from my mothers 8th floor balcony, I feel a surge of anticipation. I’m ready to go, ready to punch my ticket. I don’t want to play anymore because I see now that it’s all just a game. I can’t do it anymore, can’t smile and socialize about nothing because I’m not doing anything. I’m a born again philosopher somewhere on the autism spectrum so how interested am I really going to be in hearing stories about people living their mindless, mundane lives?
Most people live like leeches off the earth and I do too, but I’m trying to be better. I’m trying to make my oh so short life stand for something. There’s no reason to, which makes it hard to stick to anything, but I’m trying, and I can’t be around people that aren’t.
But I’m so far away from anyone that is trying. I’m so far away mentally, not so open to others as, these days, most people are just mouths to me. Where to find a brain that wants beyond the trifles that society offers? ugh.