i don't know what the point of life is. the things that i want to work the most always end up failing. life hurts. whats worse is that it't always my fault that i hurt. if i didn't hope for any outcome, then i would never be disapointed. i always hope.
it's pretty sad that i think i shouldn't hope. maybe dread is more of the problem. i dread things going wrong and then they do, because i hold on too tightly. the things i have control over are slipping away because i worry about the things i have no control over. i feel empty because i have no more lust for life, and i feel guilty because i am the one who let it slip away. when i am not empty i am filled with anger and agony because i live with an open heart and then people just take a slice of it and run away.
maybe i should let go of outcomes, become a nomad and roam the earth in orthopedic shoes. the only thing is, i want to be around people i care about while the sky is falling, while we all slowly die.
i realize that this is a pretty fucked up journal entry, but don't worry about me. writing about my feelings just helps me get them out a little faster so that i can move on from them. pain is a part of life and this is how i am expressing it, but joy is a bigger part of my life. figuring myself out will only help it be in my life even more. i will be over it in a few hours.