I am fully aware this is as rambling and incoherent as it seeems

Why have I felt so bipolar lately? One moment I’m floating on air, the next just wallowing in despair. Except not really, I just thought it sounded cool. And it rhymes!

But its at least somewhat true even if its a bit melodramatic. I don’t feel in sync with myself, if thats possible. There really isn’t anything bothering me, I just become inundated with self-doubt, seemingly out of nowhere. What if everyone really does hate me? Obviously none of my friends hate me that much because it would simply be too much work to pretend to like me, but what if everything isn’t as it seems? Maybe I’m missing something. Change will come and go but just pass me by- I’ll still be standing there when the rest have moved on. Or maybe I’ve changed. Am I still the same person I once was? Who am I? Who do I want to be? Where the hell is this existentialist crisis coming from? Next thing you know I’ll be asking if life has meaning. Good thing I already have my answer, so hopefully it won’t ever come to that. I don’t think life has any meaning as is, but you can derive meaning however you chose. The point of life is to have fun and to feel good about yourself as a person. What other reason is there to bother doing anything?

I can’t stand not knowing. Tell me please. Tell me something, anything- I just want to know. I hate to be in the dark. I’ll listen to you.

Thats why I don’t like people. I can’t analyze thoughts and feelings accurately enough. How can I know what you’re feeling? There is no equation that will tell me beyond a doubt what you’re thinking. But I need to know. I have a pathological need to know. Everything, from a historical event, to the answer to a riddle, to what you’re thinking right now. I need to know people deeply. I want to understand why they do what they do.

Why does thinking always lead to even greater uncertainty? The more I think about something the more paranoid I become. I still regret things that I did 10 years ago simply because I’ve thought about them too much. I am paranoid about everything. I need to escape. To get away by submerging myself into reality. To by too busy to think, to question. To distract myself from myself by looking away.

Take no meaning from this. I’m just incoherently transcribing my paranoid reactions to the world

Look away

from this world- it seems to

ever change in its anamorphic  form

change in its ephemeral presence.

I stand unmoving

transfixed by the distorted panorama passing by,

You move on, joined

to the turning slide reel-

I watch in dazed complacency

to see where you end

and find where I stand

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