Everything that I love annoys me. I am oversensitive and I overreact and I can't stop. Then again, other times I'm so apathetic.
I think I'd rather feel too much than too little.
But then I'm labelled as the overeager person. The one who is pushy and wants to talk, talk, talk and I don't want to be her.
But then, if I choose the other, I'm the sarcastic little prick in the corner that everybody hates (right back at ya!)
I don't want to be me anymore, I wish I could just stop being me.
I have no desire to die, and the biggest desire to live. Yet I keep thinking of ways to kill myself. Not because I'm actually planning to - I guess I'm just bored.
And I keep thinking of the future and how it will "be so much better" but truth be told I don't think it will.
I have so many plans and I keep tricking myself into thinking that as soon as school is over (3 years to go) I can start living.
But that is not true. All my plans require money and talent and friends and having fun (actually having fun is more the result of the former. But it doesn't matter, because I have none of these things.
I wonder if I could live with myself if I ended up living in Denmark, working at some office, never travelling, no relations what so ever.
I'm so driven to live, but it's only in fantasy and in books. Yet I cling so much to these hopes that I wouldn't dare to stop dreaming. One part of my brain is saying "just give up, slouch back and wait" and the other is waiting for something miraculous ("oh no, you should pack your bags and take of to paris and publish a book!!")
Conclusion of tonight: I hate myself, and I might be Gollum with all that personality conflict going on.