Same Old, Same Old

Oh, insomnia. I'm gonna wish I'd slept tomorrow morning.

So everything's still stuck in one place. Life was supposed to be this epic journey, this big deal; but it turns out, on inspection, to be simply a long sequence of repeating Monday mornings, and I remain the same.

I read somewhere that if you're not moving forward you're falling behind, and I think that's true. And I'm trying to get moving, really; it's just that for some reason, I can't seem to really believe that anything will ever really be different.

I am a piece of some puzzle. Somewhere, at some point in time, I'm supposed to find the place where I just fit, and everything's better and everyone's happier because I'm there.

But mostly I just feel like a clerk at a drugstore.

I am wasting my life. I am dying, little by little, with every passing second. But what the hell am I supposed to be doing, anyway?

This is not the life I want. It can't be the life I'm supposed to have.

And I'm starting to write nonsense.

I need to get in school, and move out from home. I need to make more money, so that I can do those things. And maybe in the middle of all that I'll find a real reason not to just sleep my life away.