Again, what is it that I want?

I thought I had explicated it all the other night, but for some reason, it no longer rings true.

What did I expect? I’m not anywhere real anyway.

These past few nights, as I spent time with A and E, it struck me how far away I was from a life like this. I mean, I liked it, to at least observe it, but if I pushed the thought too far, I would be left with the bitter thought that I can’t ever get here.

Now, I admit, it is rather premature for me to say such things. Who knows what might happen to me? Fate goes where it will, right?

But, really, I don’t know how to get what I want. The sequela of this is that I’ve adapted by teaching myself how to convince myself that I never wanted it in the first place, which works extremely well except in times of extreme fatigue and loneliness, when I have no choice but to look into the empty depths of my soul.

Consequently, I no longer know what I want, and I no longer know how to trust my first instincts.

It’s all bullshit.

Perhaps.

Or it might be real.

So I am stuck in this hellish existential crisis. Do I walk on, finalize my answer, and take the long, lonely road, never mind what is actually out there? Or do I plunge headlong into this fantasy, and grasp at faerie dreams?

Maybe I need to increase my medication yet again. This shit is expensive.

I don’t know anymore. I just feel like I’m dead in the water. I don’t feel compelled to take care of any of the shit I need to take care of, but I don’t have anything else better to do. If I brood for too long, I start thinking that there is something crucial missing from my life, but then another part of my brain starts kicking in, deriding the initial thought as something that society has subliminally gotten me to accept.

The problem is that my psyche is inlaid with all these contradictions, there are all these rules and counterrules. When it works, it keeps me in homeostasis, but when it doesn’t, it leaves me in this psychotic hell of being unable to make a decision, because I don’t know which idea to trust.

I can’t even operate on the pleasure principle, because I think I’ve trained myself to be unsure whether I feel pleasure or not.

Times like this, I feel emotionally dead. Which is really depressing.

The downward spiral.

I tried the “I don’t give a fuck” thing and that didn’t really lead me anywhere, and right now, it doesn’t seem like the best way to respond to this stagnation.

But (and here’s me turning over a new leaf—surprise!) the thing is, with every ending, there is a beginning.

And even when you feel like shit, there’s always something that needs to get done.

Feh.