Train + Train =

I think I'm something of a wreck lately. I don't know if I'm breaking any Blog Society rules by posting twice in one day, but I just feel like I really need to vent here for a minute. My emotional swings hit me like a damn train and then, we'll say I'm a train for the example, I (as a train) hit that train and then bam: I'm a wreck. Just scattered metal chunks and a whole lot of fire. On these days, I turn sullen. Everything looks different to me, like I'm a different person looking at things and have a whole different history that has led me to see everyday things differently and different different different, let's say different some more. That's another thing... I place so much importance behind "being different" and involuntarily make myself another sheeple. There is truly no winning.

I used to think the meaning of life was to experience things no else had, or maybe just experience them in a different way, feel differently about them, approach them DIFFERENTLY, and act differently, and vow to be different. But now, with the threat of senioritis on the verge and a strong sense of apathy washing over me, I can't bring myself to do anything out of the ordinary. Not that doing out of the ordinary things classified me as different in my book... I just mean, I can't break the routine. And the scary part is, I honestly don't want to. I find myself unnervingly content with coasting through day-to-day life, playing video games, eating, going to sleep at 7 in the morning and setting my alarm for 12, but then just ignoring the alarm. Sometimes I even reset it for 1, but then my body is like "OH HELL NAH, YOU ALREADY MADE THE MISTAKE BY GOING BACK TO SLEEP" and there I am bleary-eyed at 6 PM cursing myself. And what do I do? I go and play video games. And what would I have done with my extra time gained from waking up at 12? Play video games. Or go on the computer. I tell myself I'll go write and be productive and try to actually do what I want to do for a career (which happens to be writing plays) but then I just stop after scene 1 and can't bring myself to write anymore. Everything seems to take more effort than it should. And I just feel empty all the while. People are terrifying, school is terrifying, I quit my job because all the time it used up, no matter how little, felt like years of my life, which was terrifying... but all this childhood I'm trying to save up, I know I'll just use unproductively. I'm just a mess lately, and my usual thing is to go take on someone else's problems and figure it out for them, because I can always seem to help people that aren't myself... I feel even more empty after that. And when people ask what's wrong... I dunno, telling them just feels selfish. Like, "Hey you're invited to my party. PS. It's a pity-party and there is no cake, sorry kthxbye." 

Well, I've blabbered enough and I don't feel much better, which is sad, but I guess I'll go back to trying to write.