:-)

I am not very good at life.

Perhaps people are born with skill at living, like the children of professional athletes. Perhaps I'm just the ass-end of an evolutionary tree; the rest of humanity of learning to adapt to life, and I'm the Neanderthal of the 21st Century. Obsolete, out of place. Survival of the fittest.

Perhaps I'm just doing it wrong. But then I've never known how to do it right, so who am I to judge myself? Or one of me... Whichever one I happen to be. Goddammit.

I'm probably writing this in a bad mood. But who cares? Life is a series of crimes of passion, and how better to perpetrate one than to etch it on the walls of the Internet for generations to see?

If you read this, and you are tempted to leave an inspirational message reply, don't. You're wasting your time, and a few bytes of data.

Besides, it's my own damn fault.

Wall

I am stuck in my room in the middle of a dead city with a computer, a cup of tea, and a phone. I would look out my window, but it's covered in drain runoff. I would finish my homework, but I already have. I would get in a car and drive somewhere beautiful, but I don't have one.

Notice a recurring theme here? I guess the makers of the term "Woulda, coulda, shoulda" were either criminals or socially retarded.

I can't come to grips with my own adequacy. I literally look for reasons why I'm not good enough; this is disturbing and prevents me from believing anything or anyone who vouches for my adequacy. In doing so, I inadvertently upset myself for not trusting people, a virtue which I live by. And thus, I am trapped in a circle of low self-esteem and high self-deprecation.

This is really a just a cathartic entry for me. It's nothing important or groundbreaking.

I just don't have anyone to tell it to.