Notepad. Private.

life isn’t running to plan
I’m living without goals
I’m living without dreams
As though I was stripped of it the excitement for life
I feel scared because it makes me feel different,
seeing people my age, younger older, living for something,
to get to wealth or happiness or beauty
to achieve or succeed or accomplish
to experience to feel and to express

I tried making goals, but some place, someplace dark and far away, distant my mind constantly repeats, it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter . it doesn’t matter.

I tried making changes but sometimes even an attempt and I fail.. I expect that each time I try. As though I already know my place, that I am comfortable with it.

But the truth is I want something in my heart to follow, or at the least, I want to know that there is going to be something for my heart to follow.
For as much as my mind wonders, for as much as my mind breathes negatively, I do seek, I do fight, and I do hope. I have a want a desire to have my life become consumed by something beautiful, that I can be or do something in this world. I hopelessly wish that perhaps my purpose my being has a greater meaning than I can see. That I could do something or be something, impact in some way, that I cannot right now imagine.
I hope, that I could be a good person one day.
In ways, I hope to create a greater change for people rather then create a change in myself.
Yet it’s frustrating and annoying to me, to feel a glimpse of passion, of drive to motivate my life, to then lose it to my thoughts, to ‘rationalise’ and believe its all a load of shit and reality perhaps is that it is all worthless. That maybe I’ll work a 9-5 job and never travel never experience never create wonderful things, just live, 9-5 on repeat.

Sometimes I feel I have such negativity in my life, because maybe that is what I want.
Maybe it’s all made up in my head, maybe my life was destined to a beautiful path. With people and love and experiences and fun and opportunities and maybe it was also me who ruined it, either aware or not. That is the difficult thing, about dealing, about understanding your mind, your thoughts, when you have anxiety, when you have depression. To take responsibility that you yourself created the mess, created the problem… It hurts to know someplace in my mind, I’m somewhat knowingly doing things and thinking things, to harm myself.. That I need to be told by someone, what my wrong thoughts are and fix them, changing them into something else which should make my life clearer, better, happier – ‘normal’. It hurts to know I’m broken, by my own doing.
My actions harmful or not have been out of fear.
I do and I think and I feel most of the time because I am scared. So much so that it is almost scary when I am not – when I am calm.

I guess this is the mess I think about.
Starting 2017 well aware I make mistakes, that I’m scared and that maybe I am ruining the future for me, but also knowing I’m taking the responsibility fully, entirely.
Because I still want.
I want something.
I feel
I feel the need to have dreams and ambitions and goals and pleasure
and more then coping with today.
and more then just one more fucking pill.
and more then fixing the shit in my head.

I feel
I want

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