I'm doing everything I can to not work on my homework right now. Bad, bad, bad. My work ethic has fallen by the way side.
I've got a whole lot of emotions under my surface bubbling away. A whole lot of thoughts that I've been thinking. I realized that if I just don't think those thoughts, nothing matters. What happens externally is all other people see. So why even burden yourself? My internal dialogue has become a tumult of existentialism.
I had a long conversation with my brother about whether or not love exists the other day. I called him naive. He got kind of upset and called me a nihilist. What am I becoming? I don't believe in anything except floating anymore. And I'm not sad or self-destructive. I'm just tired of being disappointed.
I want to stay up all night tonight. I want to make a mural. I want to write words and share sentiments and have long conversations. I need to empty my head.
I just keep thinking this over and over in my head: "Perhaps people like us cannot love. Ordinary people can. That is their secret."
Am I really that unordinary?
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