Complete and utter desire for closeness, for pure trust to feel comfortable with someone, I am always acting a certain way to make myself look a certain way, but all I am is false, I rely too much on my thoughts and Imagination which leads me to believe positive or negative things that aren't true. I'm just wasting my time living in a make believe world, but even in this make believe world I am not the master, I have no control over anything I am just watching from a distance as things pass me by. I once had trust in people and what I believed to be friends it turned out that others are just as fake as I am if not more so. I try and be upfront about what I think about others even if I hide my own feelings. If I did show them no one would care, sure I'd have a bunch of people who would fake interest and care just until I feel good enough to help them with their own problems. I am the self conscience of others, I don't exist except when others decide they want me to I am not my own person and probably never will be. Could this be the reason why I can only continue conversation when the subject is others ,when the subject turns to me they lose interest and my mind blanks out. So I am sitting here writing to myself because it seems a bit less pitiful than talking to myself. But deep inside I don't even care about me, I bore myself. All I long for is sleep to live in my dreams where I no longer care about anything, but as with all pure desires they are but a false hope there is no chance of them coming true. I long for her and she fains enough interest to make me believe she wants the same thing, but she doesn't. I will never find the one I need because I am not worthy I realise that but I cannot stop myself from hoping, thinking nor fantasizing. The best recent memory I have is but a dream I had a few nights ago, the sky, the stars closed in on the earth colours fell from the sky and slowly flew across the land I flew over them the beauty was inexplicable. I think the reason in this dream I felt so at peace is that each and everyone of us were as insignificant as each other compared to the immensity of the stars and these lights floating under me. I finally felt one with life I finally felt like I wasn't so alone. But then I awoke and the memory of this bliss faded away and I returned to my « life » the endless void of despair and self pity. Where I shall continue for the days to come I live for others even if they are ignorant of my presence and my care for them. That is the absurdity of my condition.


« Il n’y a qu’un problème philosophique vraiment sérieux: c’est le suicide. Juger que la vie vaut ou ne vaut pas la peine d’être vécue, c’est répondre à la question fondamentale de la philosophie. » - Albert Camus