Life begins when you start to feel uncomfortable
I'm writing at 4:15am on a tumblr because when I revert into an angst-driven teenager I rant openly and vaguely. And my emotions seem to run higher late at night. I've been stuck in a perpetuating state of anxiety, self-deprecation, loneliness, and confusion. I never imagined myself to hit such a low, and yet I have. And now I'm not quite sure what to do. I've worked so hard and now it's gone to waste. I achieved everything only to let my past mistakes reverberate and shatter what hopes I had left of grasping what I had. I've lost my sense of self and have been trying to find it for the past few years. Maybe even longer. Maybe I never even had it. I'm stuck in a cliché. I'm not perfect. I made some mistakes. And it's too fucked to fix. So what to do other than to move forward? Seems like the reasonable thing to do. I tell myself every day, "Tomorrow you'll start to make things right." Yet I stay up late to soak in the solitude of the night and I sleep in until early afternoon, not wanting to face the day. In my consciousness I dread of what's to come. Or dreading the realization of what's never coming at all.
