I am full of jealousy and resentment. It’s not exclusive to those basking in their glory, but quite frankly extends to anyone who isn’t me. “Darling get off social media” is wishful thinking. For one, I absolutely love seeing people manifest their talents; I just hate the fact that I’m not.
The most unmotivating thing for me is motivation.
I don’t know what I expect from myself, from a partner, or from the world. All I know is that no one is doing enough or doing it right. And another thing, I am beginning to feel insulted by all this praise and love I’m receiving from my inner circle. It seems pretty optimistic, saying I will figure everything out, do the right thing, make the right choice. What the fuck am I doing now?” They can’t answer. They can’t relate because they know how to garden, recycle, how not to waste 18 hours of the day, and love another human being. Meanwhile, I digress onto another line of melodramatic, narcissistic bliss I call writing.
The truth is I have many abilities and accolades to show for them, but it’s not enough. Is this really all there is to this life, cycles? Because I’m bored. Every day is a matter of proving yourself, proving I love them, proving I am okay when I’m not. What is right in this world because I am pretty convinced this is hell.
Anyways, I have a job I like and amazing friends here, so that’s something.
Miss Parisia B.