Tonight I am not unusually frustrated or sad, its just that the infuriating subtleties of living seem to be at the forefront of my mind. Someone once told me I was candidly detached... implying that I took a step back from the degraded and deceptive convolutions of the "real world" and simply smiled. But I can't seem to step away from them now; finding nobody or nothing real in which to find happiness, I fill my life with distractions. I've discovered that jolts and stimuli can make me temporarily happy. But the void consumes nonetheless, and I'm always back to where I was- hoping, wishing, and doing nothing. It seems candid detachment it not an option. It just fills me with hopelessness. I can't seem to find value in living differently in a city where life is caught from a stream. I just feel out of line- out of touch. When I am alone, I remember times when my life was valued, when my thoughts were admired, and it seems like my life now could be a dream. That maybe real life truly is simple, and this pointlessly elaborate mess is a national geographic article of some obscure culture somewhere else in the world. But then someone else comes in the room and it's all changed again. And I live in this reality because I'm afraid that if I step out, I'll be completely alone. I tell myself it's open-ness but its really just fear. And I'm pathetic because I take what I can get. And I feel like swearing all the time.
Ultimately, I feel like I'm living in an open cage; like I'm suffocating, like I need to get out of here. But I don't really know what I would do once I got out.
