Hopelessness, helplessness and perpetual failure on a constant basis. Sometimes I find myself caring less and less about the things I didn't care for much in the first place. And the things I do care about, Pete aside, I find myself in the midst of not caring about at all. I find it very difficult to remain motivated to do much of anything other than sit and fail at my one goal; the one goal I have that just keeps spitting in my face time after time. It's getting hard to keep getting back up and putting the bandages on my scraped knees and doing it all over again the next day. There is no last time with me, no matter how hard I try to trick myself into believing it. I'm stuck like this while other people are free of it and don't even realize it. They have their own nightmares I'm sure, but I'd kill for their nightmares because logic takes itself on vacation when it comes to obsessive compulsive behaviors. Wherever they are, I don't go. I don't feel I deserve to go. The teen angst beauty queens and 20-something eye candies have something I will never possess and all I can do is sigh and tell myself, "at least I'm not a sheep," and in the same thought, knowing full well that I'm just as bad as they are, if not worse. There's some things that life hands you and you're able to cope and just accept them with little or no pain. And for certain people like myself, there is that one thing that life has handed you that you can't seem to put down anywhere no matter how valiant an effort you put forth. The sad part is that as long as you're holding it, it's killing you slowly, day by day and infecting everything you once were and all you have left is this shell... this shell that yearns for one thing and ignores all else. It's a small taste of hell as I find myself unable to enjoy anything anymore because it has all been so devaluated and backseated. Maybe it's more like a constant state of mourning of someone you loved and lost. Right after someone dies, all you can remember are the places you've been with them, and the things you've said and some find it hard to do, read or see anything that is at all related to that person -- so it is with me, on a daily basis, only no one has died. I'm increasingly miserable because I don't have the one thing I want to attain and it has stained itself onto everything in all of existence, so I want to have nothing to do with anything because I'm constantly reminded of what I lack. I'm so dramatic that it's sickening. It's not as if I haven't exerted myself in trying to get to where I want to be; God knows I've tried so hard. It feels like having traveled around the world and being able to look forward and be optimistic about the next destination, but then you reach the end of the journey and there's nowhere else to go that you haven't already seen, and it's like staring into the center of a blank wall. My desire is so strong that often times I feel like I will fucking combust, and that right there is followed by an equal or greater emotion of hopelessness that just drowns me so considerately. And when all is said and done, all I can do is turn my head, close my eyes and sigh.
Filling in the hole
5:25 a.m.//09.22.04
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