"You can't do anything."

Two different posts in a day, in a row? New record, woot.

But yes. My title: probably the one phrase that could set off anyone you tell it to. People are like that, they always think - wish to think - that they're capable of changing something to better the situation.

I'm going down this maelstrom of self-destruction, and I don't know how to get out of the never-ending vortex of losing my mind.

When push comes to shove, people are shouting at me constantly about how I'm useless, hopeless.

Maybe I am. Because shit, if I can't even save myself - if I can't sort out my own damn problems in the head - what the hell can I do?

Also. My ambition to get into University and all that bollocks? Thinking about it now, that's blasphemy. It would mean dedicating myself to a cause I don't firmly believe in.
It would mean dragging myself to work every day; sure, I may get this fat paycheck and a stable life but... What's the point if it doesn't make me happy?

People just don't understand.

I know, that sounded incredibly melodramatic. Great, now I'm starting to come off as some emotional fifteen year old who just broke up with his girlfriend.
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE PAIN I FEEL, NO ONE DOES. I WANT TO DIEEEE. WHY MUST SHE DO THIS TO ME? LIFE ISN'T WORTH LIVING ANYMOREEEE. SOB, CRY, SLASH. I SHALL NOW WRITE DEPRESSINGLY DARK POETRY FROM MY OWN BLOOD WHICH IS ALSO WEEPING TEARS OF DESPAIR AND AGONY. AND PLAY MCR BECAUSE IT'S GOFFIK."

... Peachy.

Heyyy, on the bright side, if (when?) I pull through this emotional nightmare of a rollercoaster, I can probably come up with some shitty sitcom that'll bank millions because everyone can relate to it and it'll provide all those quick fixes you see on TV so much!
Hence, people'll be instantly drawn into my world because they're mesmerized by the fictional quick-fix solutions and one sided dilemmas that are inevitably solved by the power of friendship and love. Y'know, stuff that never actually works in real life?

It's why we're so invested in fiction and media.

Let's us indulge in the life we always wanted - but never will have. Oh, the cruel harsh cold slap of reality. How you wound our pitiful souls.

Mm. I always was more cut out for comedy. Show biz.
Perhaps I'll spend my spare time in hopes of making a successful YouTube career (Mockumentary! :P) and make some cash off of that or something.

I know that's what Phil did.

Now my head hurts and I miss my friends. I shall go curl up in a corner, sob about my existence and slit my wrists while contemplating suicide talk to myself Lance about cool stuff.

Or y'know, I'll just hang around the Bioware forums.
That would work.

Kbai.

... Smiley face.

Insert Witty Title That Fits The Blogpost Here.

We're unsure of a lot of things.
Life constantly eludes us; it always factors in the unknown.


But I've come to realise that maybe I don't like the unknown as much as I should. I don't like not knowing.


The uncertainty and the ability to change my still hazy future isn't what I want. While people rave about it - how tomorrow is never predictable is what keeps life fun and exciting - I despise it.


I only feel trepidation for my future myself. For the uncertain. Ignorance is bliss isn't good enough.


I want to know who I am. I don't want some fucking life journey that leads up to me dying and having the "light-before-my-eyes" flashback sequence of all the important memories that I have. I don't want to study for subjects I know will never come to use in my future, but because I don't know what's going to fucking happen five or ten years from now, I have to learn it.


I don't want - don't need - to constantly try and push myself and start doing "something productive". I don't want to delude myself into thinking that maybe something I'm not doing now will help in my future - because y'know what? It fucking won't if I'm not already contemplating it.


This entire blogpost is a jumbled mess, I know. But I'm not exactly in the right state of mind right now.


All I know is... I want to know who Stephanie is.


I don't even want that magical penthouse suite in New York anymore. I don't need it.


I want to know who I am. I want to know why I'm like this. Is there a God? What are the aliens out there like? When I die, will it just be white - will I seize to exist? Or will there be the whole "cycle of rebirth" thing going on?


I need not to be remembered. I care not for today, nor tomorrow. "Productivity" for me is a lie - I'm being all the productive I want sitting here and learning more about what actually interests me (because Tropes > boring Maths lessons any day).


I just want to know the things that today's "life experience" can't teach me. I don't care for the future - that's mortality, it only lasts for so long and it can end at any moment. I can OD or stab myself now, and it'll all fade away. (And what scares me more is that I'd probably be able to do that should I get that little nudge in the right (wrong?) direction.)


I want to know who the fuck am I. Who's Stephanie. Who's Lance? Why the hell must I have some sort of mild case of DID? Was I weak enough to need some sort of alter ego? Am I just crazy? Do I just play too many goddamn RPGs? What's my purpose? Because I don't think that studying is going to lead to anything. And another one.
Why aren't I normal? Contemplating everything that goes on in my mind is crazy - even I know that. Everyone's so damn afraid of death, of the legal system, of failure in their future... Why aren't I? Why am I only afraid of myself - of what I can do? Why am I so violently sick in the head?
And most of all - why can't I be epically awesome at gaming and get Minecraft too?


I just want to know. I just want it all to stop.


Ha. That would've been a dramatic ending sentence, but... I just wanted to say.


How am I supposed to explain to the 'rents all of this? That I hate going to school not because I can't cope with the subjects, but because I just can't stand the environment? The soul sucking, cold, suffocating air that comes along with being uncomfortable in my own skin around other people? The lack of familiarity and comfort I've always felt elsewhere? The fact that I want to kill myself... I don't even have a good way of editing that strike. Because it's really how I feel.


Oh angst-y teenage stage; why must you have such horrible timing that when I'm finally starting to take my first step into "adulthood", you come and put in all that self-doubt?
Why make me regret my choice of trying to speed up my childhood?


Although to be fair, I doubt it's the puberty stage that made me hate my choice of trying to grow up too fast.


I'm just mature enough to realise now that being mature ain't all it's cracked up to be. Oh, the delicious irony.


Pardon me if my blogpost was once again sporadic. Word vomit. Just gotta say everything that's on my mind before I forget, y'know?


Ha. I don't even know who reads this blog anymore. Tell me if you still read, please? :D


Talking to yourself ain't all it's cracked up to be.


I should know. I do it every day. Isn't that right, Lance?


Also, if there are any typos or strange metaphors or sentence structures, I once again apologise. Too lazy to ever edit this.