I'm so unhappy.
I can't figure out what to say, think, or feel.
So here I am, stuffing my face and resorting to blogging to sort things out once again. It used to be so therapeutic, so poetic, vague. I've found my true creativity comes from frustration, sadness, and hopelessness. It's almost as if I enjoy the dark detour from the mundane.
Anger, not so much. Nothing quenches my anger but time and taking it out on the person who deserves it.
Very rarely do I express my happiness in the form of creative outlet. I guess it's because I don't have to figure out how to deal with happiness. You don't sort happiness out, it just is.
So, I blog my unhappiness.
None of this I know for sure. If I knew for sure, I'd have a solution. Or, not. That's the biggest fear- That I will get the "why" all figured out but there will be no solution that will make me happy.
None of this is new- it's old material, regurgitated with a wiser head and a protected heart. Still conflicting. The basis hasn't changed, but the details have.
And ah, the beauty in those details.
In my head and in my heart I know that things will not change. As much as I want them to, it's not going to happen. I've learned that I'm not the one who has to want change. As for me- I have to learn to understand.
I can list the facts. Re-hash the dead-end conversations. Try to find a key missed detail.
But that won't do any good.
Because if it were really that bad, I'd have been gone a long time ago. I've done it before, many times, without a second thought. The opportunity has been presented, almost too willingly, multiples of times. I know it's there- I don't want it.
Why? Maybe if I knew, I'd be able to figure this out.
Hmm, I kinda feel better already.
