although i realize quite well that my life is nobody's responsibility but my own, i still wonder why it falls to me. if this life is such a gift, why does it usually seem like a hopeless pile of shit that is apparently mine to sort through. and better yet, even if you do go and get messy and start trying to make sense of it; trying to make it better, it is the job of the rest of the world to keep piling more shit on.

even worse is the realization that you're doing it to everyone else too. all of this shit that you never asked for, but has been thrust upon you for caretaking, is rolling downhill. even if your intent is to leave the smallest footprint possible, the accidental shit that you produce, or is heaped upon you, winds up landing on the ones near to you that also don't deserve it. so it comes off as you being a lazy son of a bitch, that can't adequately handle their shitload. and then the neighbors hate you. the family loves you (if you're lucky), but hates to see you struggle, hates to see you continually fail, and honestly - hates dealing with your excess shit all the time.

then it seems impossible, insurmountable, just looking at what effort you already did put into it, back when you bought into their system and their propaganda, and convinced yourself that their dream was your dream too, when you still wound up here, so dismally short of their goals, or yours, or basically anyone's. what makes a goal attainable? what differentiates the good aspirations from the bad? does it even fucking matter when you're not going to reach any of them, regardless of whether or not that's actually what you want and need and are capable of?

i know that life's not all bad. it's also not all sunshine and rainbows and happy feels. these are inevitable facts of existence in this world. important, in that you can't appreciate the good without a taste of the bad. and even some things that are unpleasant can ultimately turn out to be beneficial.

but it's really hard to keep trudging on when you don't even know where you're going. and if the way that you're headed is the 'right' one. and when you come to realize that after all that trudging, you're no further along, no closer to the destination that isn't even really there. it's so hard to keep going. because you don't know what the point is anymore, or if there ever was one to begin with.

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