Statement of Intent to I.

Take what you can from it.

I've gotta stop being so fucking poetic with the way I think. It seems the state of mind I'm in exaggerates my depression and afflictions to the point that they're more than just fucking feelings. I don't know nearly enough about physiology, but it just feels like whatever I feel has to be taken in some undertow of anxiety and worry. Even when I'm feeling relatively happy or not depressed, I bring myself down thinking of how once I get removed from this group of people, life will go back to inane shit. I know it has something to do with my hypochondriasis and neurosis, in the sense that I exacerbate my feelings which means I probably have a chemical imbalance, but shit. The fuck is depression you know? Its merely worrying, anxiousness, and depravity really. And thats what I've been working on getting myself away from. Can't tell if I'm even making fucking progress, but I'll be damned if I act like anyone normal enough to cast aside their insecurity or feelings of shame just so that I can be accepted, have millions of friends, a dumbass girlfriend, and love life more than its loved me.

Something just doesn't feel right. It feels like I'm fighting what makes me a human, and for that reason, I don't think I'll ever become the mature person I want to be. WHich is merely a humble man who accepts the lack of control he has and also does what he can to help people who help him and/or desperately need help. its like I'm trying to do the impossible solely for the sake of self-recognition and nobility. Its fucking pointless because no one gives a shit unless you beat yourself to death just so they can smile and know they'll die happily. And its bullshit. Utterly unfair that I be in the place I'm in when all I've done is cared.

There isn't even any fucking intent in this. Whatever.