Why can I never keep a journal for longer than a month? You wouldn’t think it would be that much of an issue for me. My mind runs on autopilot constantly, often when I wish it would just stop. But I can’t seem to ever record my own life or thoughts for longer than short periods. In short, I guess I feel that my own life isn’t really worth it. Is it worth it?
Everything about us is so illusory and ephemeral. Big words, right? Only cause I couldn’t think of anything else on how to describe it. I feel like I’m just trying my best to make an imprint. Is that selfish? I want to know that I exist, even though nothing I do can prove that to me. So I write, and I draw, and I do half a dozen other things just to validate my own worth. I used to have other people to do that for me, then I realized what an unhealthy approach that was.
I think everyone must feel isolated at points in their lives. I realize I’m not special or spectacular in my own feelings, and that everyone has some variation of the same emotions. But that doesn’t make it better. It just makes it worse in a sense. I’ve hit that point where I can’t even begin to see what it is that I need. God knows how many times people have tried to get me to explain it.
I’ve hit a stretch where I can’t explain why I should value anything that I value. Why do I always worry? Is any of it worth the worry? Is it worth the dread? The unease? Why does it take 10 hours of sleep and a fantastic mood to get me capable of typical social interaction? Baffles my mind. And then the batteries run thin in a matter of hours anyhow.
Unknown said,
February 10, 2009 at 9:47 pm
You’re bored with the “social interaction.” You’d rather be doing something else that’s more interesting. What do you worry about?