mah life.

25 days and I am done with school. Done. Finally. Forever? I’m not sure.

But I am excited.. because, well, this has been the primary source of my stress and distress over the past few months (and even years). I can see the finish line; however, I have already put in the towel. I am done in my mind. I am barely doing any work and routinely not showing up to class. That’s a big chunk of my grades. The old me would never think of doing this. And I think the main difference is hope and desire. Right now I am slightly hopeless and desireless. I have no motivation to do well in school, do write these papers, to show up and be present in my classes. I have almost no motivation to do so, there is absolutely no purpose. Perhaps there is a benefit in doing well, but I don’t see any real meaning. Of course there isn’t a real meaning to doing well, but you can definitely find some meaning and make it meaningful for you. I personally don’t have any goals at the moment, or atleast no goals that translate into being a productive member in society that helps spin the wheels of the machine. The only thing that keeps the tiny flame burning is the fact that I want to be able to make my girlfriend happy. And I’m making an assumption that I can only make my girlfriend happy if I am productive in this society and work hard and obtain some sort of financial security. Which is possibly true. I love this girl.  But I don’t want to play that game. I don’t want to play this game that is there for everyone to play. This is a SIMS game, no? I have no desire to play. I’m slightly tired, burned out, and directionless. It’s difficult to have no direction or purpose in life. Viktor Frankl touched on this and concluded that much of our distress comes from this purpose-less life. How do I find that purpose though? Especially amidst all my self-deprecation, self-hate, self-consciousness, and any other self-i-hate-my-life. The medication is helping. I think much of my distress is a lot more contextual instead of it being contextual and internal. 

 I’m so clueless and lost.  I need some direction………

I don’t know what it is. I have no desire or motivation to do anything, really. School is going. Term papers and midterms are due, and well, I’m just sitting at home preoccupied with the constant worry that has terminated my functionality. My mother is almost out of work, and so is my father. I am suppose to be the one who “makes it”, the one who “helps”, constitutes “success.”

And here comes me… can’t find the motivation to go to school, sad, miserable, unable to adequately socialize and network, no hope, no desire, no goals.

waiting for my girlfriend to realize how much of a downer and loser i am… or maybe i should just break it off before anything can actually happen—i’d like that. i wont have any need to care as much as i do about being present and active in this world

I am overwhelmed. Pressured. Confused. Lost, in a city of millions and a world of billions.

Am I lazy? Am I not strong enough? Did I just give up? I think so.

I’m back in it. As usual I find my way back like a salmon to its birth place (salmon are such fascinating creatures). I’m baccccck. I can’t help but contemplate suicide. I want to die, sure. I don’t have it in to actually carry it forth — which is why I can only hope for a terminating illness that has me only living so much longer. I really don’t care to live, I can’t. What’s the point? I can’t go on with anything because I just revert back to the thought of death and how either I will kill myself or I will eventually die. What is the point? I don’t know how people have such strong desires to make this a better world for future generations, or to any one, really. I don’t care. I can’t even take care of myself. I feel bad. I feel bad for my family. I hope they aren’t too disappointed in me. Wouldn’t it be nice for them to have had a strong, focused son instead of me? Someone who would make them feel proud. Me? I haven’t done anything. I am a parasite. No job. No real “marketable” skills. And no real skills, either. I don’t have any achievements. I have long lost the desire to be smarter and obtain knowledge. I wasted my younger years playing video games and being a damn punk. I was mean to people, a lot of people. I deserve this, I think. I’m a terrible person. I’m nicer now, I think I’m a lot kinder and understanding. But I wasn’t in the past. I still have anger in me. I was such an angry child, I feel bad for my parents. I’m quiet, a mute, socially anxious and awkward. I want to leave this all behind. What does it matter? The world doesn’t exist after death. Why should I care about what my family and friends would think of my death? They wouldn’t exist. I am dead.

I am dead, already. A veggie, indeed. Parasitic. 

of the bottom. of the bottom. of the bottom. of the bottom. of the bottom. 

cant believe i have a gf who puts up with this bs

I used to always fantasize about my “ideal self”. It was a bit ridiculous. Ok, a lot ridiculous. But it was something - and still is - that I truly always wanted to grasp and always missed. 

sip the warm fresh coffee

it’s from africa, my favorite

i open the paper, legs crossed

i can see the early morning through the backyard door

george is out in the brisk morning of san francisco

chasing a bird

he stops and stares

i put my porcelain cup back on the wooden oak

i read my paper

legs are not crossed anymore

i look across at my wife

i smile and sip my coffee

it’s cold now, my favorite

it’s sunday

we call george back in

we gather our things and take george to the park

i didn’t finish my coffee, but it’s all right

i’ll drink it later 

i like you.

sort of.

you aren’t too bad, and you’re someone who possess the qualities i want

and i can see underneath, the warmth you have

but we both know it’s not going to last

let us give each other a push on the swings of our journeys,

our journeys of finding the crack and gap of dysfunction that shines through

let us find what we are looking for 

but let us push each other first

i never ask for much

actually, i never ask

i never talk, nor do i ever rape your ears with my trivial day-to-days

i never go on about the interaction i had with the cashier,

or the ridiculous man yelling at a baby,

no, i don’t

but when i do speak up, it’s because i have nothing left to do

my thoughts spill out of my mind and into my mouth and 

i have nothing left to do 

but to talk to you,

to tell you, amidst my incoherence, what bounces off the walls in the room upstairs

all i ask for are your eyes,

your presence,

your ears, 

your heart, 

just listen, please, because it’s all you can ever do

you don’t have to understand, 

but please, i ask, become an actor,

for all you can ever do is understand