Yessssssssssssssssss...
well, doesn't really mean that much, anyway, right? Gods, I just keep picturing myself in the tropics, stuck there. How wonderful it would be, for most, just living each day in the sun and the sand, and making their lives there.
But I keep thinking, no. I can't. Not till I make that mark. That mark I've been scraping at for years now. That I went through high school without making. And then, after that point that I knew I wanted to make.
So I went to college, and was determined to make it. And I saw it, and kept getting closer and closer, and saw it then. But didn't make it.
So, now, I want it, again. Just the mark. And then I can be dissatisfied with something else. But even the smallest parts keep turning up to be nothing. To stick with the metaphor, the marble I keep chipping at turns out only to be talc.
I fail, so powerfully, at everything I attempt. I can't magnetize people, make them enjoy or desire being around me. I can't sway women, make them want to be with me. I can't create the visions in my head, no matter how hard I try.
And ultimately, I'm sure it's just me being lazy, and stupid, and simple. This is not the paradise that we hope, but a purgatory of inches and feet, trying to build our own world around ourselves as it crumbles and breaks behind us.
I'm so tired, today, of doing it. I feel terrible, and depressed, and just... everything feels wrong.
well, doesn't really mean that much, anyway, right? Gods, I just keep picturing myself in the tropics, stuck there. How wonderful it would be, for most, just living each day in the sun and the sand, and making their lives there.
But I keep thinking, no. I can't. Not till I make that mark. That mark I've been scraping at for years now. That I went through high school without making. And then, after that point that I knew I wanted to make.
So I went to college, and was determined to make it. And I saw it, and kept getting closer and closer, and saw it then. But didn't make it.
So, now, I want it, again. Just the mark. And then I can be dissatisfied with something else. But even the smallest parts keep turning up to be nothing. To stick with the metaphor, the marble I keep chipping at turns out only to be talc.
I fail, so powerfully, at everything I attempt. I can't magnetize people, make them enjoy or desire being around me. I can't sway women, make them want to be with me. I can't create the visions in my head, no matter how hard I try.
And ultimately, I'm sure it's just me being lazy, and stupid, and simple. This is not the paradise that we hope, but a purgatory of inches and feet, trying to build our own world around ourselves as it crumbles and breaks behind us.
I'm so tired, today, of doing it. I feel terrible, and depressed, and just... everything feels wrong.