I regret to say that I let all my dreams, aspirations, and ambitions die. I let them all go until I had no ties to return me back to them. I erased them, and now I can't remember how it feels to grip onto something like that. I even struggle with the basic concept of liking something. Or appreciating something. My affinity for literature and music and film are dissipating, just like everything else I do and am. This is called sinking.
In some desperate attempt to find myself, I have managed to thoroughly lose myself in the caves of my own eyes. It's been 2 years since high school ended, the last milestone I can recall, and I haven't done a thing worth telling about. But then again, I've never done anything worth telling about. In the past 2 years, I worked so damn hard to be apathetic. To be calm and fucking cool. So calm and cool that I no longer respond to anything with any form of sincerity, genuineness, or authenticity. The things that come out of me are now just creatively-delivered bull shit that mean nothing to me or anyone else. I find it so damn hard to care about anything at all. I can feel the force of guilt begging me to just...care. I'm so deep down into this drone that my beliefs in life are dwindling to the pathetic and the lonely and being alright with it. How fucking sad is that? How fucking sad is it that I've made myself alright with being such a fucking scumbag?
Everyday I tell myself I'll be better. Everyday I tell myself I'll grab onto some dream again and bring myself back to life. But every night I fall asleep with the distress of failure and the pitiful realization that I simply don't want to do anything. Anything at all. This is called sinking. This is non-believing.
In some desperate attempt to find myself, I have managed to thoroughly lose myself in the caves of my own eyes. It's been 2 years since high school ended, the last milestone I can recall, and I haven't done a thing worth telling about. But then again, I've never done anything worth telling about. In the past 2 years, I worked so damn hard to be apathetic. To be calm and fucking cool. So calm and cool that I no longer respond to anything with any form of sincerity, genuineness, or authenticity. The things that come out of me are now just creatively-delivered bull shit that mean nothing to me or anyone else. I find it so damn hard to care about anything at all. I can feel the force of guilt begging me to just...care. I'm so deep down into this drone that my beliefs in life are dwindling to the pathetic and the lonely and being alright with it. How fucking sad is that? How fucking sad is it that I've made myself alright with being such a fucking scumbag?
Everyday I tell myself I'll be better. Everyday I tell myself I'll grab onto some dream again and bring myself back to life. But every night I fall asleep with the distress of failure and the pitiful realization that I simply don't want to do anything. Anything at all. This is called sinking. This is non-believing.
