Excessive

Sometimes I feel so fucking confined; in this chair, in this building, in this fucking ugly skin. I feel like something is going to burst out of my chest, from my lungs, burst from behind my eyes and through my fingers. I want to get up out of this fucking chair and scream, and yell and fall to my knees and scream until it burns, if only in an attempt to free myself. I want to yell and cry and get the hell out of here. I want to get free, I want to feel like myself and act the way I want to act and just be myself. I fucking hate all of this... I sometimes wonder if I just got up and left work, if anyone would even notice; Probably no one would notice. It's strange to me that humans must suffer in order to feel anything else. I wish I were a cat...

I want to try to sleep naturally as much as possible because taking sleeping pills because it keeps me tired all day and this is torture. I can't keep my eyes open, in staring and my arthritis hurts. I just feel so crappy... I want to curl in a ball and cry... my legs hurt so much.

What is happiness to me? Not this... definitley not this. My happiness seems to lie in another world, which isn't even real.

I sometimes wonder how other people can be happy. I wonder what they think about, or what things they feed themselves. Are people genuinley happy living a lie, are people relaly happy inside when they believe in made up things and make believe fantasies? I guess some people would rather live a life of hopless ignorance rather than the life of truth seeking suffering.

I've covered this all before, this is nothing new. In fact, this is disgustingly repetitive. I just get fed up with everything... and it usually comes out like this, or in a much more bloody way, which is better? a know, I'm not sure.

I'm in a bad mood, can you tell?

351 words