I want badly to be well
maybe I rationalize my sadness by calling it a disease, thinking anyone could catch it, I'm just unlucky. Therefore, I wonder why me, and although I can't have sadness surgically removed from my body...sadness is not a thing. If it was, I could sell it.
I thought about death today. I don't think Jonna would have wanted to know I thought about it. I think I must be surrounded by it, and yet I don't feel it seeping into me, making me sad, making me wish I was more like what surrounds me, what enjoys itself, which is death and all its themes.
I don't wonder when I write, really. It's just an exploration of things to say. That's why when I read something I've written, I can't remember writing it, and I refuse to believe it was me that penned it. I think forgetfulness is my strong suit.
If the economy is depressed, why can't I be?
Lately I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do with my life. It seems like what I want to do doesn't exist.