I am not sure what is real anymore. Today I dreamed that everything was alright and my life wasn't falling apart like a jenga tower being attacked by a furious child. It was somewhere between 1:25 AM and 3:04 AM. I know it because I woke up and stared at the damn clock for 30 minutes straight like it was guilty of ruining my chance of spending another 5 minutes in a lie. It's not even a beautiful lie... just something that's relatively ok, but weirdly it has become a new high point for me. Now that I think of it, it has been the only high point in the last few months.
It's becoming painfully clear to me that all of my friends are leaving. Some because they don't need me, some because they never liked me, but mostly I think they've figured out how fucking shit I am at leading a life. I went to the psychologist and she told me that I should think about what I want more, because no one else cares about what you want or feel. And all I could think of was... Well that can't be true. I care about other people... why wouldn't they care for me.*Pause... Thinking about what I thought back then...* Oh what fucking stupid thoughts pervaded my naive head... But I am not changing my ways. I can't. It seems impossible for me to think about what I want and need... before other people's needs and I told this to the psychologist... she didn't think there could be anything done either. I'd like to think I am not going mad, but whenever I think about dying now, (and lately I do it a lot for obvious reasons) I feel like it is my obligation to at the very least make it count. In my mind it has hundreds of great scenarios varying from "shoving someone off the highway and getting hit by a car myself" to "donating every organ in my body simultaneously to save an orphanage full of sick children".
I can't sleep. If I could, then I'd be doing it right now, but for now I have to settle with watching videos, reading articles and writing this festering turd of a blog all at the same time. Why on earth would I keep my mind fully occupied? Because if I had enough room to ponder about the deep meaning of my life and future... well... let's say that's not something that would keep me alive until the end of this week.
Don't get me wrong, it's not all bad. I've forced myself to work out until I can't think correctly anymore and I believe there are some results. It's either the fact that I'm starting to get more fit or that I am going well out of my mind and can't see straight. Also I'd like to think that when the next great metaphorical plane of crap crashes into one of my jenga towers of life I will not feel much more pain than I am feeling already. Of course I am aware that the next hit probably will be the fact that it can get worse... much worse. Murphy's laws basically say that it will get worse and it will get worse fast.
Then again I would like to hope that once life screws me over again it would do something creative. One day I might wake up and get my arm cut off clean just below the elbow and I'd have a hook melted onto the stump by some freak accident. Possibly I will fall asleep at some place (maybe at a party) and some smoker would leave a lit cigarette on my makeshift 100% cotton sweater-pillow, so now, when I wake up, my face is half-burnt, rendering me a disastrous train wreck of a human for the rest of my life and possibly half- or completely blind.
My life and future options sound damn great at the moment. I better start watching the new season of Elementary now. Every night gets longer than the last one.
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