I broke my Ipod today. It's screen got smashed in to a million tiny little crystals with no shape. In to million pieces that make no sense and don't work anymore. I saw my life reflected on those little crystals. My sad pathetic existence.
Once my life held promise, I had a future, hopes, dreams, plans. But little by little all those illusions have slowly died, I've stopped living in a world of bliss delusion and have awaken to see reality. The fucking world which I've managed to create for myself by making every wrong decision, every mistake there is I've made it. Believing I could ever be an author when I don't even have the guts to send anything is incomprehensible. How I believed in true love despite the evidence of its nonexistence is just stupidity. Or maybe its not stupid believing in true love, what's truly idiotic is believing I would ever find it. I hate every second of my life and I don't know how to fix it.
The Ipod got smashed in to a millions bits and it was a metaphor for my life. No real job (Working for mommy does not count). No success on any interview, I used to believe after college people would beg me for work, how childish of me to assume such a thing. Just like that Ipod I am useless now. No job, no money nothing.
Most of my friends have jobs, good paying, fun jobs. Jobs that include vacations, bonuses, experience. Me? I am stuck working a 50 hour job and getting payed for 30. Working in a job that doesn't inspire me. A job I truly detest in a job that is my family's lively hood a job I am suppose to love and all I do is hate. I am stuck in a job that feels wrong in every possible way.
Most of my friends decided to further their education, I made a mistake giving up that dream, I thought I didn't need it. Maybe I should have continued maybe that was the key out of this dump that is my life. But I am not good at school. I used to believe I was but I am not. I am never going to write the next American novel, I am not good at anything. I am a mediocre being. I do nothing special and I never will. I am a smashed Ipod, million little pieces. hundreds of tiny crystals make me a blurr.
I thought about deleting this blog, whats the point of writing my patheticness in it. But with out this outlet I don't know what I'd do.
I can't exsacly tell my family how I feel, it be sick and twisted to torture them like that. I can't tell my friends because I couldn't stand the pity stares. So who else can I confide in if not a bunch of strangers on the Internet.
Once my life held promise, I had a future, hopes, dreams, plans. But little by little all those illusions have slowly died, I've stopped living in a world of bliss delusion and have awaken to see reality. The fucking world which I've managed to create for myself by making every wrong decision, every mistake there is I've made it. Believing I could ever be an author when I don't even have the guts to send anything is incomprehensible. How I believed in true love despite the evidence of its nonexistence is just stupidity. Or maybe its not stupid believing in true love, what's truly idiotic is believing I would ever find it. I hate every second of my life and I don't know how to fix it.
The Ipod got smashed in to a millions bits and it was a metaphor for my life. No real job (Working for mommy does not count). No success on any interview, I used to believe after college people would beg me for work, how childish of me to assume such a thing. Just like that Ipod I am useless now. No job, no money nothing.
Most of my friends have jobs, good paying, fun jobs. Jobs that include vacations, bonuses, experience. Me? I am stuck working a 50 hour job and getting payed for 30. Working in a job that doesn't inspire me. A job I truly detest in a job that is my family's lively hood a job I am suppose to love and all I do is hate. I am stuck in a job that feels wrong in every possible way.
Most of my friends decided to further their education, I made a mistake giving up that dream, I thought I didn't need it. Maybe I should have continued maybe that was the key out of this dump that is my life. But I am not good at school. I used to believe I was but I am not. I am never going to write the next American novel, I am not good at anything. I am a mediocre being. I do nothing special and I never will. I am a smashed Ipod, million little pieces. hundreds of tiny crystals make me a blurr.
I thought about deleting this blog, whats the point of writing my patheticness in it. But with out this outlet I don't know what I'd do.
I can't exsacly tell my family how I feel, it be sick and twisted to torture them like that. I can't tell my friends because I couldn't stand the pity stares. So who else can I confide in if not a bunch of strangers on the Internet.
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