Am just turning schitzophrenic lately. Very happy, very down, horribly sad, annoyingly frustrated. I feel like I'm stuck in some whirlpool of events and blind to the things I really should see. Money ain't good. Space is okay, but still kind of cramped and unfamiliar.
Damn movies been making me more depressed than usual too. Keep seeing shit I wish I was part of. Or shit I knew I could do if given the chance.
I want to leave. I want to take a stab at my dreams. I want to face the world and show it that I've been roaring to do this all this time! But at the same time, I don't want to leave. I feel comfortable. I feel statisfied. I feel like I've found a niche to call my own already.
When does dreaming for better things become something negative?
Or is it simply me not having the courage to embrace it?
I am happy yet I am not. I seem to exist in the middle of anything in life. Of everything in life. Its so frustrating. Maybe I need a time out from life. Maybe I just want to be an artist for a while again.
I act. I work. I create. I draw. I make stories. I share them. But somehow, I still feel like I'm not doing what I should. Or getting what I deserve. Or be treated as I should be.
In all, I'm fucking feeling snarfed right now.