Blue Bayou

I am lazy. The fact that I don't ever want to do anything except waste my time on digital devices and gay pornographic material bothers me. I could dance around how I want better for myself and I want to do good things, but when it comes down to actually doing the work, I couldn't be bothered. I have a tether that keeps me grounded. I have a safety net that I use to ensure that I am safe and I get 3 squares. This side of my personality has always been there and I just accept it. It is easier than having to live my own life and do the things that I want to. Even when the things that I want to do aren't really on the table because all I am doing is sitting around, scrolling through social media, or beating off to random gay porn. I recognize my faults. I indulge in them daily. And I torture myself with trying to be something better than I am when I know that deep down, I am not a worthy person.

I see signs throughout my daily life. Little life suggestions. Sometimes a thought expressed from an action that I have seen in a movie. I see these signs. It's as if I am this living SIM trying to do what I want and the world around me is telling me that I should be doing something else. I should be working on myself, bettering myself, finding my happiness while being good to others to help them find theirs. Which seems defeatist, trying to help others find their own happiness, because it still seems like putting others needs ahead of your own, in order to find happiness, is how to be happy. It sounds like bullshit. I think of ways to be clever and I try to jot down what it is inside of me that gives off a spark, but the signs...they tell me that I am wasting what little time I have left on nothing special.

Ultimately the things that I want, the life that I want, are well within my reach. If I want to take control and have that kind of life, all I need to do is focus. But I am impatient. I am still a young man laying in wait for something to come along and make life all better. I have lived my entire life like this. It is a part of what controls my depression, not know how to be better than what I am. I fear that I may never have the answers to the questions in my mind. I don't have enough tape or superglue to mend the pieces of my life (or my heart) back together. I wonder how many times I will be willing to pick myself up and try again.