Today is a good day. It’s been kind of hot lately, but today there’s a nice strong wind which makes it cool. Apparently, it’s going to be even cooler tomorrow, which is nice because I’ve never really liked heat too much.
Today is one of those kinds of days, though. I feel like I should write when I’m not having that kind of day, when things are ok and I have something I want to share. But I never feel compelled to write when I have a day that’s ok. I should. But I don’t. I’m sorry.
I feel like a fraud. Like I’m trying to be something that I’m not or trying to live up to expectations that I can never fulfill. Whenever I try to do something, I always seem to fall short of my own expectations. I want to be good at games. But I’m not. I want to find something I’m smart at in school. But I can’t. I want to be a diligent student, who can learn things quickly. But I’m not. I want to have a healthy physique. But I don’t. I want to get closer to Her. But I know I never will. And I know most of the blame falls on me. Ultimately, I’m the one responsible for my own actions and my own fate. But I can’t help but lose all motivation to be anything. I guess what I’m saying is I’m lazy. I want to believe that I’m just an idiot and that achieving things is beyond my reach, but really I’m just a lazy idiot who can’t build up the resolve to actually try to be anything.
Sometimes I feel like I need someone or something to blame. Like my teachers are bad or my family never encourages me or I’m too introverted to make friends with anyone. But I know the blame is on me. I know it’s my own fault that I can’t be who I want to be. It’s my own fault that I can’t live up to my own expectations. But whenever I remember that fact, I lose all motivation again, and I end up faffing about on the internet, desperately looking for something to distract me from my own self pity and self hate. Even this is a distraction. I’m supposed to be organizing my notes and studying for an exam tomorrow. But I’m not. So here I am, whining away about how shit I know I am, and not doing anything to fix it. I know this is wrong but I just don’t give a shit anymore. I keep feeling like I won’t amount to anything and that trying is entirely useless so I might as well just keep faffing about because in the end of it all I’ll be dead and you won’t remember me and I won’t remember you, whether there’s an afterlife or not, like nothing makes sense and nothing matters any more, so what the fuck is the point in even trying?
Now I’m remembering that other thought again, that there’s no point in dying right now. I’m here to experience the world. I might as well experience it. It doesn’t make me feel any better, honestly. But it keeps me here, I guess. And for the experience that I and other people are having right now, I guess it’s important that I stay.
I just wish I could be something, you know? Something to call myself, or something that can make me believe that I am worth something. Some kind of talent or some kind of quality that makes me finally believe that I’m not just a waste of breath and space and food on this planet.
I get that it’s not easy. That I have to try to make it happen. That for nearly everyone else on the planet, being good at anything takes effort and work. But I just don’t have the motivation. I wish I did. Sometimes I think that if I just knew someone personally, someone who could support me and pick me up when I’m down and celebrate when I’m up would make be who I want to be. But I know that’s not true. I need to do it myself. Because I am alone. I need to be something for myself. Once I become something for myself, then someone else will come for me. But until then, I don’t deserve anyone like that. That kind of person will be my reward when I finally become worth something.
Maybe I shouldn’t think like that. But right now, I don’t know anything else. This is all that makes innate sense to me. Hardly anything else does. I’m just sort of here, doing things, without really some point to doing it. Maybe that’s what I want. Some kind of purpose or reason. And right now, my purpose is trying to be worth something. But I have no idea. I’m really just looking for something else to say. But I think I’m done for today. So thanks. For reading. Just being here knowing that my words are being heard makes me feel a bit better. Even if my words aren’t being heard, I can still hear the words myself. That makes me feel a bit better too.
Take care of yourself.