I think I'm pensive and sort of thoughtful, not necessarily in a positive way. I'm in the midst of a sad quiet late night you should just give up and go to sleep and feel better in the morning mood swing, but somehow writing and dwelling on it seems like a better plan than just being unconscious.

After a year or so of Perfect Circling and emo-ing with the occasional Pumpkins song, I'm suddenly on a pretty hardcore Machina era Pumpkins kick, and from time to time Siamese Dream. I'm not sure why, but I'm always surprised at just how well everything he sings always appeals to me and just sort of connects. I like the almost but not quite bitter tone of Siamese Dream and the torn up love story of Machina.

I go home in less than two weeks and I'm not sure what to do. I keep droning on and on about the future, but only because I'm worried about it in a big anxious way and can't really do anything about it here. Part of it is full of hope, like the previous entry said, but another part of me dreads it and would like nothing more than to pull the blankets over my head and never come out again.

I have no fucking passion.

heavy metal, heavy metal machine

This is an antagonizing song. It's rather loud and scratchy and pleading and beautiful and silly and hopeful and angry and snarly and who knows what else, but it makes me further wound up than I already was, though the writing might be part of that too. Introspection tends to get me down; I have no idea why I do it so much. I'm always thinking of the past and the future, never the present. I live for the future such that I can correct my past mistakes. The present serves only to get me to tomorrow, nothing more.

I'm lonely.

I'm lonely for that idealized home and hope and the girl I used to be. I wish I were beautiful, really truly feel it inside beautiful. I wish I didn't need validation of my existence and self worth so often and always from others. Why can't I just be good enough for myself? Why can't life be easier?

These are all hypotheticals. I imagine anyone who actually answered them would be deified and anyone who asked them in utter admitted sincerity would be shot to put them out of their self pity.

In all seriousness, is anyone ever actually happy with their situation in life, or do we always yearn for something more? I suppose from a biological standpoint we'd have to, such that progress and evolution would continue, but it seems so fruitless.