Back? Still fucked in the head!

What the fuck am I doing? I was supposed to do great things. Memorable things. When I was a kid, I truly believed that I could be anything that I wanted. I grew up. Now I am here and doing this. I provide people with clean dishes. Clean fucking dishes. I don’t matter in the grand scheme of things and this bothers me. I don’t matter and this is not how it should be. It should have been different. Growing up was supposed to be different. I know for damn sure that it wasn’t supposed to be me spending my days at the same bar every night doing the same shit every single day. Completely unable to attain what I truly want. Completely unaware of it in fact. Do I want the girl? Do I want the career? Do I want the ability to express myself? To be understood? To die? I don’t know and this scares me above all else.

Tonight I encountered and dealt with many situations which caused me look at myself through a different spectrum. This is quite normal for me. Every look at myself is a look from a different angle. I am always unsure of where the truth ends and where the fantasy begins.

I am in love which isn’t abnormal for me. As a Hank Moody’s father once put it, “There isn't a woman that I've met that I haven't fallen in love with, whether for 10 minutes or 10 years.” I am afraid. Thrilled. Happy. Sad. Every emotion at once. I want it to work out, but I fear what may come. I am afraid.

I may also be suicidal or at least have very little in the caring about whether I live or die department. A simple twist of fate. Of choice. I was crossing the street to my apartment. I saw a car coming at me going at least 30 mph. It turned. If it had kept going straight I truly felt that I would have jumped in front of it. I sit here and still shake. Still wonder. Part of me wants to believe that I was joking while another part fears the truth.