have you ever sat back and wondered, "what the fuck am i doing? where am i going with this? is any of it worth the time and effort? do i have the time and effort to put into it? will i have the time and effort?"

i've been asking myself these questions a lot, recently and i've come to the determination that no, i don't possess the qualities, the characteristics the whatever to do any of it. i'm lazy, i have no motivation to do anything but be lazy. not unusual for me, but still disconcerting. it's not the same sort of laziness displayed when my friends had all graduated and i was still stuck in a program i really didn't like.
it's not the same laziness displayed when all of my friends were in long term relationships with futures. i still wanted to be 18, with little to no care about anything. i just wanted to be me.

but you can't make a living being you, unless you're famous-- which i'm not-- and you can't be lazy your entire life otherwise you'll amount to nothing. all that wasted carbon, oxygen, resources and you've proven nothing, achieved little to nothing.

i still want to be me. i still want to do nothing. i don't want to be creative-- i've lost my creativity, and when i find it i feel it lacks in anything remotely good. i don't want to be active-- because who's going to care, really. i want adventure but i don't want to have to seek it out, it has to find me.

i kind of just want to leave, never look back and never look forward. there's no where to go to achieve this, unless i want to take a dirt nap and i think i don't, but i'm not really sure because i have no thoughts. just blank stares.

i should be doing so much homework right now and i can't be bothered. i'll get good enough grades if i do it, but that requires attention--which i have none of-- and it requires intelligence, which i seem to have misplaced somewhere.

my father thinks i'll make a year and be gone. where? he can't say. just not here. he might be right.

i don't want to be here, under the oppressive grey skies; my tyrannical mother who both pushes me away and pulls me in, leads my life without actually knowing it; my indifferent father. i'll miss my friends, i think, maybe for a little bit but they'll move on in life and i'll be that ghost, that spectre, that you think of from time to time when you see pictures or hear a song. i'll be like that relative that you love to have over, and say that we should do this more often, but once i'm gone you forget all about me.

i'm okay with this because what good are memories if you don't care anymore.

i'm depressing myself. i need to function, automatically. because it's what i've gotten really good at, even though i malfunction often.

the clock is ticking.

b; old enough to know better; attached.
college student of historical events, future educator. canadienne. i like to read, but i don't do it enough. i run. i like zombies. i'm obsessed with all things batman, except not batfleck. i'm a terrible video game player, but i'm getting better through attrition. i can play piano pretty good, though. the sound of city streets soothes me, but i love the silence of the forest. curious stargazer.

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have you ever sat back and wondered, "what the fuck am i doing? where am i going with this? is any of it worth the time and effort? do i have the time and effort to put into it? will i have the time and effort?"

i've been asking myself these questions a lot, recently and i've come to the determination that no, i don't possess the qualities, the characteristics the whatever to do any of it. i'm lazy, i have no motivation to do anything but be lazy. not unusual for me, but still disconcerting. it's not the same sort of laziness displayed when my friends had all graduated and i was still stuck in a program i really didn't like.
it's not the same laziness displayed when all of my friends were in long term relationships with futures. i still wanted to be 18, with little to no care about anything. i just wanted to be me.

but you can't make a living being you, unless you're famous-- which i'm not-- and you can't be lazy your entire life otherwise you'll amount to nothing. all that wasted carbon, oxygen, resources and you've proven nothing, achieved little to nothing.

i still want to be me. i still want to do nothing. i don't want to be creative-- i've lost my creativity, and when i find it i feel it lacks in anything remotely good. i don't want to be active-- because who's going to care, really. i want adventure but i don't want to have to seek it out, it has to find me.

i kind of just want to leave, never look back and never look forward. there's no where to go to achieve this, unless i want to take a dirt nap and i think i don't, but i'm not really sure because i have no thoughts. just blank stares.

i should be doing so much homework right now and i can't be bothered. i'll get good enough grades if i do it, but that requires attention--which i have none of-- and it requires intelligence, which i seem to have misplaced somewhere.

my father thinks i'll make a year and be gone. where? he can't say. just not here. he might be right.

i don't want to be here, under the oppressive grey skies; my tyrannical mother who both pushes me away and pulls me in, leads my life without actually knowing it; my indifferent father. i'll miss my friends, i think, maybe for a little bit but they'll move on in life and i'll be that ghost, that spectre, that you think of from time to time when you see pictures or hear a song. i'll be like that relative that you love to have over, and say that we should do this more often, but once i'm gone you forget all about me.

i'm okay with this because what good are memories if you don't care anymore.

i'm depressing myself. i need to function, automatically. because it's what i've gotten really good at, even though i malfunction often.

the clock is ticking.