I will never come to terms with living, ever.
I think I should become a psychologist so that I can delve deeper into all the complications of the mind and humanity, but I think that doing so and attempting to comprehend would make me insane. Are people inherently good? Can they change? Is it better to be happy sometimes, all the time, or not at all? Would living in pure happiness take away from your humanity by making you ignorant to sorrow, a whole other component of humanity? What aspirations do we have that make us trudge onward through life? Why is it so difficult to be human? I guess it all boils down to the timeless question, "What is the meaning of life?" Yeah, I'm definitely going to become psycho psychologist.
Right now I want to spit some bullshit non-poetry and staple it on the face of the world. Give me a redbull vicodin cocktail or give me a more exciting way to die. That doesn't even make sense. But I typed it so it's going to stay there because that's the way I'm feeling at the moment. Love, etc.
Edit: created poetman (bullshit non-poetry) category.
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