Even I can only spend my days in one house with one family so long before losing my mind.
I need to just get up and go.
Do anything. Do everything.
Maybe I’ll just spend all my time hiking around in the hills and hydrating properly and come home, exercise a bit, take care of responsibilities and chores and then go to sleep and do it all again the next day? I want to exercise and do nothing else.
Get my body as healthy and as fit and trim and toned as I possibly can before I hit my physical prime in a couple of years, after which point it’s all downhill from there. It’d be criminal not to see my body at its best before I die.
That’s what I feel like doing.
I don’t want to waste a single additional day of my youth. That’s all I’ve done for the past 21 years.
I feel like acting as though I don’t have a single friend or acquaintance in the entire world so that I can actually get on with my day and my life instead of feeling paralyzed by emotional senses of obligation and guilt and “could-be”s and “can never be”s.
I feel like never touching a computer again for as long as I live.
I really, really, really do.
(Presumably while driving.) ((Probably one of the biggest reasons I absolutely fucking despise driving))
And depending on whether or not I’m depressed and despondent or motivated and empowered (pretty much my two default emotional states) it’s either a tiny bit frightening or extremely comforting.
If I feel like I’ve got something to look forward to, or, to put it bluntly, a reason to be alive, then it worries me. If not, I’m sort of glad.
I realize it’s absurdly unlikely, but the worry is still there all the same. I feel like this most likely stems from the fact I’ve always got this creeping, nagging sense that I completely wasted/squandered my entire adolescence hiding from the world like a tiny child and feeling sorry for myself (100% accurate basically).
I’d hate to meet my end unexpectedly before my life could even start.
Because it definitely hasn’t yet.