I guess, at some point, you have to accept the prospect of others being content without your presence in their lives. And…maybe find someone who actually finds space for you gladly?
I’m trying to find a woodworking class that fits my schedule somewhat. And by “trying to find”, i really mean simply thinking about it. I just want to build useful objects, or be useful somehow.
My life revolves around pointless pleasantries and all sorts of interactions that mean absolutely nothing to all parties involved.
Today, a co-worker asked me to feel her breast because she thought she felt a lump in it. I am not a medical professional, or even a person who knows shit about any sort of malignant growths, and what they might feel like. I did it anyways; it was awkward, and I didn’t provide her any reassurance or comfort.
5 out of 7 days, I feel lower than a septic system, and some random 2 days, I am floating on every single cloud; expecting to accomplish anything that I have pushed aside for the past 7 years ( in favor of the easy endeavors that bring short-lived contentment ) those feelings dissipate like a looming storm that fails to deliver any rain.
I am a perpetual idiot that will live the same exact week, forever, until my disgusting, lard ridden body dissolves into skeletal remains.