sweet catastrophe

i always feel like there’s something about life, something about everything that i miss the memo on. i always feel like the odd one out of things. i’m always THAT one; that one who’s never done this, that one who doesn’t know, that one who this always happens to, or that one who doesn’t have whatever yet. i’ll never really understand. there will always be something, some invisible barricade, that prevents me from reaching any kind of goal i have for myself. to quote that episode of Boy Meets World, (when shaun tries to win football tickets by sitting on a billboard on a cold chicago day, only to realize he’s up against an eskimo on his summer vacation), there will always be an eskimo standing in my way. i imagine a lot of things, mainly because behind the sealed doors of my imagination is the only true place where i can be whomever i want to be, do whatever i want to do, and it will all come true. i’m not really sure what’s happened to me over the years; i used to be a happy-go-lucky, joie de vivre embracing kind of person. maybe that’s how most people still view me today, but how i feel before i go to bed every night, and how i feel wake up every morning is completely different. i’m never fully satisfied with myself anymore. i feel as if i can never accomplish anything amazing or significant. i’ve achieved quite a bit, but those feelings quickly diminish as i compare myself to others. i’ve been doing a lot of comparing lately, and i know one should not judge his or her own happiness and success based off the success of others others, but it just happens. it’s basic psychology that when everybody else has something, or is doing something that you have, the value of that thing, in terms of the happiness it can bring to you, decreases. maybe this is me over thinking things. i tend to do that a lot when i’m alone. i hate being alone. i hate a lot of things. i hate being the one whom things never happen to; the one who will never get it. there must be something wrong with me that i don’t get. i’ll never get it. i’ll never get life. that’s why i just like living, dreaming, within my own mind. i guess it’s the only place i can really be happy again.

there will always be doubters and skeptics on the subject of anything that requires belief. but why?  sets of beliefs were made to appease the human person. grasping on to hope that there is some omnipotent force beyond us all, or that deceased loved ones still exist beyond the limits of our concrete universe, is sometimes the only hope that can keep others yearning for life. is it that there can always be life, and God around us, we are just never fully aware? this hope almost all of us keep inside our hearts is, in my opinion, one of the strongest forces in the world. the strongest forces in the world are the ones we can’t see; love, hope, and faith. you can’t see what true happiness is, or any of these other factors. you have to sense them. to doubt is to close off any warming feelings, anything that brings sense and happiness into life. we all need something to hold on to at times, and a majority of the time, they aren’t even tangible objects. it is a great thing to believe.