listening

sometimes i just look at pictures of people i know who are already living their lives, who are adults settled into jobs or careers, whether it's what they wanted to do or not. and their relationships, and their friends and their kids, and their responsibilities.

because those responsibilities matter; they put food on the table. what do mine do? they're bullshit, really. and i hate bullshit.


but i shouldn't think that way. i guess i'm just jealous. i'm jealous because i look at pictures and i see people who have empty eyes and sometimes i wish i could just be that person, who looks and doesn't see, who just goes through blind, without realizing the meaningless illusion that covers everything, and is a reflection on everything they touch. but they are still granted the small happinesses.


it's not that i'm unhappy all the time, because i'm not. i enjoy moments. but i just can't escape this melancholy. and it's worse, because that same melancholy goes against my attitude about how people should go through life, so part of me always feels like a hypocrit.


this place is crushing my spirit.

tired of the whole thing

its really hard to find meaning sometimes

especially in paperwork
and filing
and bullshit


i am required nothing by creation
not even existence

so why do people insist on terming my existence
as only having meaning if i
complete something other

as if you just woke up

asofterworld.com

check it out