Just Needed to Share vol. 7

first time i've been up before noon in months.

I can't for the life think of why i'm getting up. what good it's going to do. maybe to make them happy. make them feel like they've accomplished something. that they've broken me. that i'm giving in to their ideals finally. that i'm being melodramatic on the internet over nothing. that i feel truly without a country....without a generation.

i can't relate to anyone. i'm not hip enough to be young and happy and too young to be old and bitter. i'm not normal enough for society and not crazy enough for the asylum. i'm to weird for the mainstream and not damaged enough for the "freaks". I replace one insecurity with another, one without a face. this isn't a girl that didn't love me back. this isn't a publisher that rejects my manuscript after a six month wait. this isn't an audience whose indifferent toward or downright hates the band. oh they're still squishing my brain matter between their fingers like silly putty, but this is...i don't know what this is. it's more vague. it's more frustrating. it's more debilitating creatively, as there isn't even a phantom to pine over/attack violently. this is an attack on all fronts. on my manhood. on my "talents". on my intellect. on my ideas. on my ideals. on my general worth...my relevance....my place in the world.

very little has changed. i still don't know what the fuck it is people want from me. what i have to do to make them give me at least a fucking chance. is it really something so trivial and superficial that i can't even notice it? is it really about hair and clothes and smiling through your fucking teeth? is it really about just nodding in agreement with everything they say? is it really about being a god damn house cat? I don't fucking know. 25 years old and i still do not fucking know.

Just needed to share.