i do not live what i think would be a good life but i don't let myself get depressed about like i use too because i see no point in being sad about it anymore. life hasn't been great and anything of interest to me seems to not work out partially because of me, and with people usually, distance. all the bad things in life don't really spark much of a hit in me anymore.
i just don't really care. at all. i feel like I've mixed taoist philosophies with nihilism and other forms of ideas[some my own, others not] that i think most people wouldn't believe really mix together at all and roll with it. i feel like a sheet of paper where you write one thing and instead of continuing it you scribble some parts out, white out some others, try to write over it, continue and there you go and have yourself a over filled splotchy page of things that in the end didn't produce much. just a calmer me with no real idea of what i should think. keeps my mind on the move. everything is beginning to feel less and less real when i think about it. when i think about what everything is they feel more like apart of my imagination than something you'd understand. i don't know where I'm going with this anymore.
the other day when she called it was weird. i felt like something gripped my mind and dragged me back to a me i was a few years back. simple things and songs gave me that feeling summer would give you right before school got out. i felt, what i could say, would be raw emotion pumping thru every little portion of my veins. it wigged me out. when it got quiet again. it felt like what I'd imagine would be what sinking thru quicksand is like. slow to give you time to ponder yet soft and un harsh. till you hit the bottom and forget what it was like anymore. if i were to call this anything. I'd say it's an odd stance with peace. not enlightenment. things are inconsistent. I'm inconsistent. these things i write never flow well together. I'm bouncing back to what people would consider logical and smart and right to thinking every little crazy nook about life is my truth and every little crazy nook i dig in life is right. i dig my hands in both and wait it out to see if it'll get me somewhere else. like china or something.
it never does.

would you consider that sad?