Psychotic Rock Star

The melancholy life of the Psychotic wannabe Rock Star.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

When I was younger I used to look at the future as this vast open space full of infinite possibilities and to put it simple a whole lot of fun. However, these days, the more I think about tomorrow (or even the next 5 seconds) puts me off whatever it is I'm doing. I'm not entirely sure where this is coming from but it's been at the back of my head for a very long time. I'm already at a point where I'm close to giving up because I really don't know what else there is. Or what the point might be.

I used to find some semblance of solace in tears. These days it's a wasted effort, it doesn't help any more and there's no one to really listen to what I have to say. It's like every thing that I am is unimportant and extremely meaningless to the people who claim to care for me the most. Ironic isn't it?

I think that I am a wasted excuse for a person. Another empty shell of a growing disease. Tell me. What is the point now? That's just it. There isn't one. Because no matter how good something is, or how unbelievable, there's ALWAYS going to be a catch that'll drag you lower than you were previously. The sad thing is, it's all that I've got and I don't want to give it up even though it's dragging me further downwards.

As you said, my life is less interesting. Thanks.

Thursday, June 03, 2010

It's been a very long time since I've let myself make the time to sit and just write. Sometimes there's nothing to write about but more often than not, you find that you're thoughts move into a progression and you find yourself at a point where nothing that you can say or try to derive makes sense. A standstill where you're completely lost in your own mind.

I've lived the past year knowing what I wanted in life and I'd wake up in the morning to go to work not knowing where that was going. Now it's the opposite. I know what I want with work. But the rest of my life is in shambles and now I don't want to write anymore.