An Inquiry on My Life

I like to think I have a comfortable life, good family, nice friends, and good stuff but I can't help but stress and panic. I'm in college for now, although summer break is coming up and I find myself panicking. I find myself out of control and trying to pretend that I have it. I find myself wondering if I speak what's on my mind will anybody care to hear me and if they do, how bad will it change their opinion of me.

Honestly, I'm terrified, horrified but I'm trying. I want to keep trying and I'm feeling desperate and hopeless because I think people lie, they're paranoid, secretive, and they look for someone to judge so they don't have to focus on their lives or their problems. I want to scream, I want to break stuff, I want to do anything but cry. I want to do anything but show how I'm feeling on the inside. Maybe that's why I'm doing this because my rationality is blinded.

"Life Is Hard." Maybe that should be my new motto. Life is hard, and so far, it has been difficult to find where I fit in. ****. I can’t keep focus for the life of me and I don’t know why. It’s already in my mind, I just find that unless I do it immediately I lose interest and that’s what kills me. I know, I know, that even when you aren't interested you should give it your all, put in the effort but what if you can’t even find the effort? What if sometimes you just want to sleep all day and night to avoid everything? To avoid the fake smiles or even the real ones, to avoid the possibilities of pain and the high chance of insecurities that you know you’ll have to face one way or another. I find that I often shy away from conflict but I am a paradox in that I also like to not really cause conflict but I would much rather settle it with my fists. Maybe because I’m so secure in my supposed anonymity that I can actually admit this to myself. I can actually admit one of my many, many, many flaws because even if I point it out or hit it dead on at point blank it won’t mean a single thing because sometimes I like my delusion.

My delusions keep me safe. They keep the paranoia and the panic away. It allows me to breathe and it’s my coping mechanism to deal with the world, to deal with life but it also damages my focus. It makes my one self-image fragile and I know that when it breaks, it won’t be quiet. Instead it will be as loud and as noticeable as building made of glass collapsing in on itself.

But will I cry? Will I break with my building? Will I lose all hope and just submit myself to a life of mediocrity? Not at all. I’ll simply take those fragments with bleeding hands and a heavy heart and make a new building. Maybe it will be a healthier coping mechanism, maybe it won’t but all I know is that I won’t quit.

I’m not saying there’s anything against quitters, or that someone’s coping mechanism isn’t healthy for them. All I’m saying is that one that that city or tower you made is going to break down and are you going build it the exact same way, just to watch it fall or will you adapt and change.

Oh well. That's life whether this is published or not. This my rant, my words and my feeling. This internet is practically made up of this so whose going pick out mine. These were my complaints and my melodrama.

- Bye Bye