to be dreamt of
the future is terribly fuzzy, and scrying is backbreaking labour. it's like i can only see one way out and everything else falls by the wayside. any other options might as well not exist because my tunnel vision doesn't let me see them. i feel like this is my one shot at securing my future happiness, an i'm rather desperately afraid of bombing it. it isn't true, i can always do something else, but. time effort money. the three horses of my personal apocalypse. perhaps the drama queen rides with them, ensuring panic and thoughtlessness wherever they go.
also, dear internets, i'm also afraid of being diagnosed with depression. if i pretend it isn't true and deny anything and everything, then it doesn't exist and i don't have to worry about it. the problem is that i'm slightly more clever than that, and i know that i have a problem of some kind. i'm just too cowardly to go find out what.
not to mention depression is so cliched and boring. *teartear* fucked up brain chemistry, life is so hard. booooring.
on the other hand, with people being diagnosed left and right, i'm at a bit of a loss as to where the line is drawn between life being hard because it is, and life being hard because your brain is sabotaging you.
mmmmpills. maybe that's another thing. it'd be really easy to just relax and let go and become a prescription drug junkie. "sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills / fix me in 45" but is that any way to live? if i knew anyone who was able to quit taking antidepressants, i would be less sketched out by the idea of taking them. not to mention they ain't cheap.
this is my dream: tiny cozy little house, near a city of some sort, on a wooded lot. self-sufficient, self-sustaining, garden, pets, internet. of course, for it to be absolutely perfect, i would need some sort of independent wealth/income. working blows so fucking hard.
i'm going to go back to listening to they guys who seem to know something about the world being less than what was promised to you as a child. maybe they will know what i need to do.
also, dear internets, i'm also afraid of being diagnosed with depression. if i pretend it isn't true and deny anything and everything, then it doesn't exist and i don't have to worry about it. the problem is that i'm slightly more clever than that, and i know that i have a problem of some kind. i'm just too cowardly to go find out what.
not to mention depression is so cliched and boring. *teartear* fucked up brain chemistry, life is so hard. booooring.
on the other hand, with people being diagnosed left and right, i'm at a bit of a loss as to where the line is drawn between life being hard because it is, and life being hard because your brain is sabotaging you.
mmmmpills. maybe that's another thing. it'd be really easy to just relax and let go and become a prescription drug junkie. "sometimes we take chances, sometimes we take pills / fix me in 45" but is that any way to live? if i knew anyone who was able to quit taking antidepressants, i would be less sketched out by the idea of taking them. not to mention they ain't cheap.
this is my dream: tiny cozy little house, near a city of some sort, on a wooded lot. self-sufficient, self-sustaining, garden, pets, internet. of course, for it to be absolutely perfect, i would need some sort of independent wealth/income. working blows so fucking hard.
i'm going to go back to listening to they guys who seem to know something about the world being less than what was promised to you as a child. maybe they will know what i need to do.
posted by NAME @ 11:59 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home