Lament of the Modern Man

I am a recursive, self re-enforcing loop. My whole being can be defined by referring to the fear fuelled limits I place upon myself. Have you ever hated yourself? Because you look at yourself and see nothing but failure after failure?

I think I might be retarded. I think most people are. We all have something basic missing, a few digits from the algorythm of capabality. Some people feel too much, some not enough. It’s all down to faulty programming. I have this ideal idea of what a person should be. Brave for one. Compassionate for two. Connected for three. And incapable of being stuck.

But I’m stuck. Stuck in myself. Stuck in my world of soft fear. I’m so soft I can’t even see where the edges are, I’m not sure if I even have any. I feel like my whole being is a gradual decline into shades of gray when all I want is to be able to say that I see black and white.

My life is typical. I’m too self-reinforcing to be capable of real depression. My life won’t let me. I have a job I hate. I don’t understand women, or my reaction to them. I worry about things as soon as they occur to me, but I don’t let myself think about them beyond that. I have no continuity, everything seems to be completely disconnected. I can think that my best friend hates me, or that I love someone I hate. I have no control.

Beyond all this typical fiddling while the ship sinks under me, I want to change. I need it. I need to be tempered. I need to be burned. I need to do things that instigate the change I so desire. I’m sick of being a bystander in my own life. I’m sick of falling into every modern cliche in the book and being incapable of simply abandoning myself to it. Every single time I fail to live up to my own desires I die a little. This happens hundres of times every day. It’s not that I ahve no self-confidence, I simply never use it for anything useful. I need to make some moves. Some serious fucking moves.

Or even some fucking small ones. Anything will do. Anything at all.