Life has handed me many a good thing. i am a very lucky person. Sometimes, i want to run around and hug everyone because i feel as i could burst with love. Somehow though, i always manage to destroy all around me. i get so comfortable, oozing into routine, and in a sloth-like puddle, i lose all sense of significance and slump into a heedless ingrate. i collect greed like a snotty child collects stickers or rocks. i feel like i can't be satiated; more attention, more cookies, more comfort, more clothes, more appreciation, more love. i am a giant pudgy indulgence rolling down a hill and collecting everything in my path.
i keep wanting to feel certain things at certain times. i am however, fully aware that life is a random collection of events which happen as the system sees fit. This equals some pathetic disaster for me, because even when i am in the moment, i seem to be watching from the outside, my nose pressed helplessly against the glass. i used to be temperate and meditative. Now, i am rapaciously waiting to feel. Sometimes, i am particularly hopeful when the sun shines bright and beats warmth on my face, and i think i can clear my mind and heart. i have repetitiously learned that unfortunately, this optimism is quick to pass and really, i feel like shit and am a toxic receptacle, filled to the brim and almost overflowing. Wait...it has overflowed.