"Carpe diem, seize the day, live the moment, appreciate what you have, love what you were given, thank everyone, it's all about your mindset, smile a lot until your facial muscles start to twitch, be who you are," scream voicelessly the posters, as vacuous as the white wall. I want to appreciate what you are saying, but I don't know how. The possibilities and potentialities and discoveries and uncertainties and just the limited amount of youth just drive me crazy sometimes; I find myself in middle of no where, black out, middle of no where, black out, middle of no where. Tell me how to be so mindful, at peace, and happy. "Being busy and lost and miserable is meaningful, whatever point in your life, but especially during the twenties," I tell myself, but sometimes I just feel like I'm completely lost without direction or clue or hope. Even when I am happy and confident about who I am, really, where is all this leading to, what is all this for.
Existential breakdown. All this because no passion has blinded me, or blessed me, yet. Purpose of life didn't work itself out as my life went on. It's like I'm staring blankly at the blank sheet to fill out. Periodically unsure, periodically mindless. At least constantly trying to find the answer as to, "how should I live?" but also in the back of my mind, I know of the horrific answer, "the only way I will live is by always questioning how should I live, and never being able to stand as a coherent and stubborn whole." Free like the wind, I can romanticize; or formless like a puddle. I am adventuring through life! No, I am simply lost, lazy, and hopeless. Sort of an epic existential tragedy. Sort of a mild manic syndrome. Sort of a very natural and obvious thing for everyone, except I have locked myself by knowing the question, and knowing the fictional quick-fix answer. Now I can think of no other answer; the answer of "there is no answer" grew into a thick wall I cannot see beyond.
"Shoot for the moon, even if you miss it, you will land on the stars, practice makes perfect, mistake is the mother of success"
Shut up. I just want to have some fun.
Mothagesso.
Existential breakdown. All this because no passion has blinded me, or blessed me, yet. Purpose of life didn't work itself out as my life went on. It's like I'm staring blankly at the blank sheet to fill out. Periodically unsure, periodically mindless. At least constantly trying to find the answer as to, "how should I live?" but also in the back of my mind, I know of the horrific answer, "the only way I will live is by always questioning how should I live, and never being able to stand as a coherent and stubborn whole." Free like the wind, I can romanticize; or formless like a puddle. I am adventuring through life! No, I am simply lost, lazy, and hopeless. Sort of an epic existential tragedy. Sort of a mild manic syndrome. Sort of a very natural and obvious thing for everyone, except I have locked myself by knowing the question, and knowing the fictional quick-fix answer. Now I can think of no other answer; the answer of "there is no answer" grew into a thick wall I cannot see beyond.
"Shoot for the moon, even if you miss it, you will land on the stars, practice makes perfect, mistake is the mother of success"
Shut up. I just want to have some fun.
Mothagesso.
