February 10th, 2004
107635018686795692
Lost in Translation (reaction)
sometimes i spend a lot of time thinking about what would make me happy. like if i had this…thing, or set of conditions in my life, it would be good, and i wouldn’t get depressed, or be tired, or anything like that at all. but then i think maybe even if i had those things, i still wouldn’t be happy. if i had the chance to just be an artist and make things the way i wanted to make them, just for the sake of making them, not for money, or a living or anything like that. if i just had money, and didn’t have to work, then everything would be easy;.. but it wouldn’t. i’d get depressed that my life had no meaning, and everything just happened so it would all be shallow and fake.
it’s the same way with time. if i think about how i was at a certain time, and if i was that way again, it would be ok. but was i ok then? maybe i’ve never really been ok, and i just lie to myself and remember things better than they were. maybe things are always going to be not great. maybe that’s the way it is for everyone, and people just don’t complain about it as much as me.
i want something to mean something, and not worry about it, or have it make me feel sick.
i want to be clean, and do something and have it make my life better all the time, not just some of the time and in some ways.
i want to be loved, and i want to sleep… and not feel guilty about sleeping. feeling guilty about sleeping always makes it feel terrible.
