:(

Some days I’m not afraid of being defective. Some days I’m afraid of not having scars, of being safe and trapped and boring. I know I am not cool and I will never succeed in becoming cool because for some reason coolness is a characteristic of the other and I am too familiar to myself to be interesting, but I think that I wish I were cool because I admire cool people so much and that just makes me even less cool than before. I feel like I am too lucky, that I have lived a life with few bumps and as a result I am formless, I am evanescent and uninteresting. I am certainly grateful for everything I’ve been blessed with, but I can’t help but wish I were grittier, more damaged. Maybe it’s because when I feel inexplicably sad it is so inexplicable as to be inconsequential. Who cares if you cry if there is no reason for you to cry? It’s worthless suffering, the kind of thing people wallow in and demand pills for. The kind people get easily annoyed with. The kind that doesn’t get fixed because nothing bad has really happened and maybe you’re only miserable because your life is so empty that there’s nothing really painful there and that is the saddest thing. That breaks my heart. That is what is bringing me down now. I guess sadness is better than nothing, than days of sitting on the couch absorbing other people’s stories and being numb. Let’s put it this way: life is feeling. If you don’t feel anything or don’t have any real reason for feeling anything, what’s the fucking point? Why have skin and a heart if you’re not going to utilize them? I want to feel alive today and instead I feel demolished and hopeless. I want to have a goddamn reason for my fear and anger and apathy because if not, I will begin to turn on myself and hate myself for my weakness.