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Whenever things get really shitty I end up on tumblr because I just want to be heard, but there is no one in real life to hear. So I get on tumblr. Maybe someone reads it. I’m back to alone. Back to scared. I um, I was thinking today about how disappointing life is. We grow up as kids with this preconception that life is as it’s portrayed in Disney films and in our cartoons. That people get along, that everyone is happy, that the prince always gets the princess, and that everyone lives happily ever after. Life is nothing at all like that though is it. I think life is more of this mess of existence that honestly I have no fucking clue how people make it through. Some days to be honest I wish I wasn’t a part of this existence, that it would be better for other people, and I wouldn’t have had to go through all the pain that life has made me trudge through, and that I wouldn’t have to get through all the shit that is inevitably to come. That’s just the honest truth. 

When I was a kid I never really was interested in being a fireman or policeman like everyone else. I think at one point I did want to be like some big famous musician or something, but I always kind of dreamed of being either a professional video gamer or like someone that makes really big games. As I grew up and started to get a taste of what life really was like, I guess my “dreams” just started to become a little more realistic. All of a sudden I didn’t care so much about being famous or really good at anything.. I just wanted to know what it felt like to be happy for once. Or god forbid to stay happy. I guess that’s not really a viable dream though when you wake up one day approaching your 22nd birthday, and you find that the only way you can talk to anything that will listen is through your fingertips to an anonymous tumblr account.

I think freedom kind of went hand in hand with experiencing happiness. To know what it’s like to tell someone that you will call them back or get back with them after you go hang out with your same sex partner and to be open about things like that, to be open about sex with someone of the same sex. Maybe you can’t have happiness without freedom. I mean that’s just speculation, I really have no idea. If it’s true then maybe that is why I don’t know what happiness feels like. Freedom to talk to your mom about a guy that you like. Freedom to be yourself and know that people will still love you. 

I don’t know though, maybe it’s me. I look around, I look into other people’s lives, and they are everything I’m not. They are free, they are happy, they are themselves and they are proud of it. So I mean, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe life is all rainbows and sunshine and ponies and the real issue is just me. Maybe I’m not worth it all. Evidence of people that give two shits about me sure says that it’s me. I mean the fact that I’m sitting here saying all this to a screen that doesn’t respond or give feedback probably says that pretty clearly. Idk. Either I wasn’t born with value, or between all of the mistakes I’ve made and the regrets I have, maybe I lost that value. Cause honestly I feel like I ran out of chances a long long time ago. Maybe that’s why I started making stupid careless decisions. 

The question that I wonder though, is what’s the point. When if you are totally honest with yourself, when your life really boils down to the fact that you don’t experience happiness at any point in your day, when you literally force yourself up in the morning to go to school, eat lunch, do your work, sit on the computer listening to music that you think sympathizes more with you than any human being on the planet, and then go to bed just to do the same emotionless (or emotion filled) routine day after day after day. When you wake up to your life being like this, is it really worth living? I mean honestly, is it even considered living? A lot of times I feel like the dead are more at peace and solitude and themselves than I am. What is living? I mean are we living because we are breathing and eating and moving or are we living because we have souls? Or is there some emotional prerequisite to being “alive”? I guess that’s where the term emotionally dead comes from. Idk. I just don’t really feel like I’m “alive” anymore to be honest. I’m sure it sounds dumb. But when you end up sitting in your computer chair typing shit like this up because you have no one to talk to, no one to hang out with, and no desire to do anything whatsoever because you feel so empty and worthless, well it doesn’t sound so dumb then. 

I know it sounds like such a dumb question, but really think to yourself and ask, is it really? We pull the plug on people who want to die because they are sick of living, they lose hope and don’t want to go on anymore. What’s the difference. I’m pretty sure the hell that some people live in every single day is just as excruciating to their emotions and their psyche as the physically ailed person. So what is the difference, or is there none. 

And then there is you. I know you think you are better than me. I know your life is better than mine. I know you are happier than me. I know you are freer than me, and I know that you have better morals and are in general a better person than me. Maybe that’s why you are done with me.

Just wanted to say them somewhere, because I know I will forget, I always do. Just wanted to tell them to someone/something.

First dream was really weird. Both were actually. Anyways, the first involved this guy that I really like. Somehow he was like part of my family, like my brother or something. Anyways me, him, and my family went on this vacation or something, in a submarine down in the ocean. We went outside the submarine and swam around underwater and stuff. I remember one night we showered and like my whole family was in the tv room of the submarine, and he just was sitting on the couch in his black briefs comfortable as day. He was hott :P. Anyways, somehow we ended up back at home, and it started to hail really big ice outside, and we had a pet walrus who was getting pelted to death, so I jumped through a glass window outside and tried to protect the walrus. Yeah, weird ending.

Anyways, the next dream I had is a bit more indepth, and honestly made me really depressed. Somehow I learned how to become a werewolf, like the kind in skyrim for reference. I lived in this town near a forest, and I found this population of gorilla people who hated all humans, but I came to be friends with a few of them. One day I was swimming out in the forest with a couple friends who I taught how to be werewolves, and we got out for a bit so I could show them the gorilla people, but the gorillas kept running from us until it looked like they were really mad, so we ran back to the pool and hid underwater. Then the gorillas came out of no where, jumped in the pool, and my friends started to transform into werewolves to kill the gorillas, but I told them not to transform because there were humans nearby. We killed the attacking gorillas by snapping their necks, graphics I know, and then got in our car to go home fast as possible. On the way there we found the gorillas were attacking the whole town because of me for some reason, and this guy was running after our car yelling at us, so I got the car stopped so he could come in. All he said was “I am so glad that it is you who has to die so this will stop. I am important to people, and would be missed if I died. But no one will miss you, care, or notice if you are dead.” Then he smiled at me, and I pushed him out of the car. We finally came to the center of the town, and inside we found people being killed by dolls that the gorillas had trained to inject people with lethal syringes. My friends were stuck by them, but somehow I managed to avoid them. I can’t remember what was at the end of the house. That’s about all I remember. The worst thing about this dream though, is how truthful what the guy in my dream said in the car. It scares me.