Where was I the past 4 years? How could I have allowed myself to get so far away from living and doing and feeling? How could I have let myself get so numb?
I abandoned a comfortable way of living to find passion again, only to find that this greater passion exists in fleeting moments. In my naive brain, I assumed that these moments or rather, feelings would last forever but instead I've come to realize everything eventually becomes stale, loses it's vitality. Nothing lasts forever.I hate that part-when everything becomes dull and all that is left is the repulsive weaknesses in all of us.
oh the Irony. Thus is life, impermanence.
I can complain all I want about how living is painful but then I'll have one of those sobering moments where I remember that this is all that I have, this existence. What the hell am I going to do with it? What will be left of me when I'm gone? What can I do to change this world that is already so far done? The pressure is mounting to find something other than just an attraction to radical alcoholics who like to bump into each other every weekend, and I just don't know what to do.
I feel like I'm such a stupid romantic. I'm so sick of love, loving everyone, being loved. Does it even exist? and really what is the point? It is as much painful as it is enjoyable.
Once achieved the elated state you lose all of yourself in becoming one person, or so I've experienced. It doesn't last and right now, only appeals as much as having a warm and often times cramped bed. All that you can fill with a dog or cat.

I suppose everything is fine. I'm still here, monotonously living just fine.