I’m typing this because I couldn’t find a pen. I’ve never kept a journal and I honestly don’t believe I’ll be continuing this one. I have a great desire to be understood but I do not know myself. My childhood is bathed in nostalgia and half-memories. I spent most of my childhood aspiring to be an adult, or more “grown-up”. This will eventually lead to my downfall. I have a real difficult time enjoying the moment. Any moment. This has mutated into a form of nihilism I’ve come to know. My lack of caring is difficult to explain, as it’s not a pessimistic view of the world but an understanding that I’m not able to shake. Meaning. Purpose. Awareness. These words plague my mind as I lay sleepless in my darkened studio. As a kid, I was afraid of heights not because I might fall, but because I might want to jump. Knowing this, I believe I’ve unconsciously set up boundaries for myself so I don’t, “jump off the roof”.
I really love this and feel this deeply thank you for sharing this you are really awesome I really enjoy your writings have you ever written any poetry by chance?
I really love this and feel this deeply thank you for sharing this you are really awesome I really enjoy your writings have you ever written any poetry by chance?