Out
I need to get out of this town. It hasn't really dawned on me as much as it is now. I just need to get away. From this city. I first realized how bad I want to go the other day. Matt said he plans on riding out of this life on a motorcycle and finding something new. And I said I'd come with him, and for some reason, I really meant it. I need to get away from other people planning futures for me that I don't want. Success means nothing to me, and no one seems to understand that. I told my mom that I was going to get a motorcycle license and leave and she just made this sigh. Like I'm going to die.
It's funny. I feel like I haven't been alive. For so long. I feel so empty. I'm consumed by this strange desire. To just get closure for everything and then leave without looking back. I want to tell my mom that she's a good person but she needs to lighten up. I want to get that 120 bucks from my stepdad and tell him I don't want to be part of his house-legacy. I want to apologize to Katy for being a spaz, even though she has no idea. I want to say something to Rebecca. I don't even know what. Just something. You know it's time for change when things you thought were ridiculous and inconceivable two years ago are now your reality. I told my mom I don't celebrate Hallmark holidays on Sunday. How many people do you know that would ever do that?
The palm reader said that I'd meet my wife in college. It looks like I'm not even going to college for at least another year. My life is quickly headed into a direction that has no meaning, but I'm discovering how little reason and purpose play into reality. Things do not have a point. People just are. Life just is. And I have to get out so I can see it for myself. There's so much world to see. So much life to see. I'm not going to waste it working away twenty years of my life to get a law firm like some people think makes you happy. I think reading that post made me realize how disconnected from life humanity is. Life is not success. Life is happiness. Life isn't sweating away your precious hours inside an oak box researching crap that will be irrelevant in five hundred years. STOP WASTING YOUR TIME.
As I think more and more about my Assassins story, I feel like I'm getting a hold on what I'm really trying to be. I don't necessarily want to murder people. That's not the point, and once I've finished the story it will be clear. I'm just trying to open eyes. And sometimes it seems like the only way you can open someone's eyes is by shooting them in the face.
God, I wanted to be in love. So bad. I've gone on about it so much but words don't do it justice. I still want to. But love isn't what I thought it would be. That is to say, available, abundant, and easy. You have to find love. People who say otherwise either stumbled over it on accident or are talking out of their asses. I just want to be happy. There's still a good person underneath all my jadedness and anger. I'm just so sick of everyone. And you can't change anyone. I've learned that too. You can't change anyone. Try, and you'll fail. The most you can hope to achieve is to make them see what they are with open eyes, and hope that that will inspire change.
I'm sick of opening my eyes to the same day. Rinse and repeat. I'm sick of it. It's all so tiring. I haven't written Dalder in forever. I just don't know what to say. I want him back. Life has been less without him. But that doesn't fill up a letter. I could drone on about all the menial pointless things. I could tell him that I went out with a whore. That I didn't know but thank God we got that out of the way because I'm still hearing horror stories. I could tell him I went out with Alyssa, some girl he doesn't even know, and now she's going out with Andrew. I could tell him I went out with Myha and that didn't pan out either. I could depress him with extensive tales of teen angst and woe. Standard fare. I could tell him I dreamed vividly of a girl but never followed up because I am, in fact, a coward. I could tell him that I miss feeling the joy of life. That the last time I saw someone who was genuinely excited was when I had a foreign exchange student. I could write shitty poetry or lame jokes that could potentially offend him. But all of that means nothing. It's all gone and past. Useless trivia. What can I say about now? Today, I was miserable and alone again. You know, same old. God, I'm such a teenager! Say, how's the weather in Virginia? It just sounds so bland. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and see the same faces hiding the same feelings. I wish people would just be honest about what they felt. If you are attracted to someone, just fucking tell them. We have a month left. If you hate someone, tell them. If you are using someone, taking advantage of them, apologize and stop.
Here I go trying to change people again. I'm just exhausted. I just want to truth out. No more fake, please. I hate fake. Just be real, even if that means losing friends or telling your mother that you don't celebrate fake holidays. Being who you are means being that person even when that person doesn't make admirable choices.
Ugh, I can't piece any more thoughts into cohesion. I'm just so exhausted with people. What kind of bomb do you need to drop on society to wake it up from its own whispered lies?
I'm sorry this post was not humorous.
It's funny. I feel like I haven't been alive. For so long. I feel so empty. I'm consumed by this strange desire. To just get closure for everything and then leave without looking back. I want to tell my mom that she's a good person but she needs to lighten up. I want to get that 120 bucks from my stepdad and tell him I don't want to be part of his house-legacy. I want to apologize to Katy for being a spaz, even though she has no idea. I want to say something to Rebecca. I don't even know what. Just something. You know it's time for change when things you thought were ridiculous and inconceivable two years ago are now your reality. I told my mom I don't celebrate Hallmark holidays on Sunday. How many people do you know that would ever do that?
The palm reader said that I'd meet my wife in college. It looks like I'm not even going to college for at least another year. My life is quickly headed into a direction that has no meaning, but I'm discovering how little reason and purpose play into reality. Things do not have a point. People just are. Life just is. And I have to get out so I can see it for myself. There's so much world to see. So much life to see. I'm not going to waste it working away twenty years of my life to get a law firm like some people think makes you happy. I think reading that post made me realize how disconnected from life humanity is. Life is not success. Life is happiness. Life isn't sweating away your precious hours inside an oak box researching crap that will be irrelevant in five hundred years. STOP WASTING YOUR TIME.
As I think more and more about my Assassins story, I feel like I'm getting a hold on what I'm really trying to be. I don't necessarily want to murder people. That's not the point, and once I've finished the story it will be clear. I'm just trying to open eyes. And sometimes it seems like the only way you can open someone's eyes is by shooting them in the face.
God, I wanted to be in love. So bad. I've gone on about it so much but words don't do it justice. I still want to. But love isn't what I thought it would be. That is to say, available, abundant, and easy. You have to find love. People who say otherwise either stumbled over it on accident or are talking out of their asses. I just want to be happy. There's still a good person underneath all my jadedness and anger. I'm just so sick of everyone. And you can't change anyone. I've learned that too. You can't change anyone. Try, and you'll fail. The most you can hope to achieve is to make them see what they are with open eyes, and hope that that will inspire change.
I'm sick of opening my eyes to the same day. Rinse and repeat. I'm sick of it. It's all so tiring. I haven't written Dalder in forever. I just don't know what to say. I want him back. Life has been less without him. But that doesn't fill up a letter. I could drone on about all the menial pointless things. I could tell him that I went out with a whore. That I didn't know but thank God we got that out of the way because I'm still hearing horror stories. I could tell him I went out with Alyssa, some girl he doesn't even know, and now she's going out with Andrew. I could tell him I went out with Myha and that didn't pan out either. I could depress him with extensive tales of teen angst and woe. Standard fare. I could tell him I dreamed vividly of a girl but never followed up because I am, in fact, a coward. I could tell him that I miss feeling the joy of life. That the last time I saw someone who was genuinely excited was when I had a foreign exchange student. I could write shitty poetry or lame jokes that could potentially offend him. But all of that means nothing. It's all gone and past. Useless trivia. What can I say about now? Today, I was miserable and alone again. You know, same old. God, I'm such a teenager! Say, how's the weather in Virginia? It just sounds so bland. I don't want to wake up tomorrow and see the same faces hiding the same feelings. I wish people would just be honest about what they felt. If you are attracted to someone, just fucking tell them. We have a month left. If you hate someone, tell them. If you are using someone, taking advantage of them, apologize and stop.
Here I go trying to change people again. I'm just exhausted. I just want to truth out. No more fake, please. I hate fake. Just be real, even if that means losing friends or telling your mother that you don't celebrate fake holidays. Being who you are means being that person even when that person doesn't make admirable choices.
Ugh, I can't piece any more thoughts into cohesion. I'm just so exhausted with people. What kind of bomb do you need to drop on society to wake it up from its own whispered lies?
I'm sorry this post was not humorous.
Comments
You're not seeing the whole picture. Look past success. It means nothing to me. Accomplishments are temporary. Waste of time. I don't want to be a doctor. I don't want to help people. Your mistake is that you are still factoring success like it means something. Be a doctor. All the people you treat will die, inevitably. What's the point?
Or you wind up with folks that you thought were romantic hobos until they shoot up. OH, by the way, they do smell, but after a week of no showers, so will you so you probably won't notice.
I think that you should go to college, but don't major in business or a technical field so that you can become "a success". Take some courses in literature, philosophy, drama, flim making, psychology, etc. You are, in your own way, very creative. College could be the way for you to find a way to express and somewhat understand your creativity and what you may have to offer.. You don't necssarily have to get a degree.
Sam is a girl, BTW.