So many people consider themselves outcasts yet have some group or something they can relate to or at least entertain themselves with but I dont feel that about anything. Not even my art or writing, I think they are the closest things Ive found but I dont find any escape through them. Thats what it seems every one is always searching for; a way out. I want my own way out. I have tried many things from sex and alcohol to religion. I havent tried many drugs but I just dont see myself finding an escape through them. No matter what I do I feel undeniably grounded the bell jar as Sylvia Plath would call it. But even she had her depression to sink into. I just feel numb. I want to have fun or to feel something. I feel like a whinny bitch and it's not that I can't appreciate what I have; or maybe it is. No, I take all this back. I sometimes escape through books. There are moments when I read that I am content, not just content, happy.
