I feel as though I've lost who I am somewhere in the years of placating who I should be to everyone else. I'm not happy with anything. I'm looking, craving a new experience to breathe life into me again. Being trapped in this ruthless cycle of money, work, school is sucking the last bit out of me.
But isn't that selfish? To complain about wanting me when I have so much already. There's real problems out there and I'm chasing a feeling of betterment. A feeling that is very much so just a personal choice to be excited and elated. It's as simple as deciding that I am. Why continue on this cycle of regret when I can reopen that part of me I love so much. Why is it so hard to not be weird and angsty.
Is it consumeris, Wanting those big beautiful houses with pristine furnishings and a fancy car parked out front? Is it society's pressure to be this tiny, thin, smaller nosed version of myself because that's what's pleasing to the eye and the only way I can be worth anyone's time? Or is it the cultural war I rage within myself everyday between this east and west standpoint that I've struggled growing up with.
I keep trying external factors to fix everything. I bargain, if I make the person next to me happy then their joy will eventually rub off. I root for others to succeed and achieve because once they've reached their goals, I'll finally have a shot at mine. I need to repair the damage to my psychology first though. I've always, always made decisions with my heart, but now it doesn't care for anything and my mind haven been left to fester all those years is to weak to be rational and strong now.
Am I just being selfish or does life greatly dislike me?
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