Life continually proves to be such a complete surprise every waking turn in every conceivable direction. The things i want remain to be the things i can never have, while the things i can have prove to be the things i don't have any lasting interest in. There are things i want to say to several different people but i fear i wouldn't be able to find the words. Paramount is my ever growing feeling of inadequacies despite the acknowledgment of my own self worth. Strange is how i can feel the king of all of fuck mountain one minute, then the next feel lower than the hobo sitting next to me bumming change for a drink.
It short, i feel like i'm caught between a world of virtuous beautiful (near)redemption and the monotonous static hell that is the complacent, grueling everyday truth of what i've know on a day-to-day.
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