Pathetic ramblings of the sleep deprived.

I hate the universe that is out to get me. I've had the worst bouts of insomnia in the history of ever, have a bad cold I can't seem to be able to get rid of, am on hormone therapy, feel bloated all the time, and have been more times to the hospital in the last three months than I've been in my life and that is saying something, because I've been to the hospital A LOT.
I feel like shit and I'm depressed. And though it's not over yet, this has possibly been one of the worst years of my life. There's only so much positivity one can embrace. After that, it's just being stupidly delusional.

The problem with everybody, I humbly think, is that they take themselves too seriously. I have no idea what happened to genuinely Being. Everybody feels like they're just walking around doing really bad, grotesque impersonations of themselves. No action is un-performed, no speech is unprepared. Nobody looks in each other's eyes anymore. Not really. They're either looking at your nose or at your lips or at your brow. Is it too much to look at someone's frail humanity reflected in their eyes? Too distracting, maybe?
Anymore, I think it's mostly not worth it engaging in conversation. Because when an actor is delivering, you feel compelled to deliver back. It's like a literal manifestation of Shakespeare's 'The World is a Stage'. Only, this time, it's life that's imitating art.
And how I feel about this is permanently maladjusted and I don't think the problem is me.
My feelings get lost in translation to words, but what I'm trying to say is that all this interaction is stifling. It's like being on a television show and I'm the only one who knows there's no one on the other side of the screen.
How this feels like is incredibly frustrating and really, really... lonely? That's not the right word but it's the first that comes to mind.
And I guess this is what Wilde meant when he said, "Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."
All everybody does anymore is echo someone else and do what they think'll look good.
Exasperation, this time, is the right, first word that comes to mind.

In desperation, I write this in this cold, electronic device, reading my words off of a glaring screen, because there is no one to listen.
My whole life, it feels like I'm going nowhere. And maybe I'm not trying hard enough, but I have no idea what to do. I feel small and need directions. It is not really enough to know your place in life, even if that alone is a rarity. You have to know how to get there.
And how I feel like is like I've been trying, all this time, to win a fight underwater. No matter how hard you try, you can never punch what you're aiming for.
And God, it's so exhausting, just deciding what you want, that by the time you do decide, you've got no strength left to act it out. Passion is dwindling out and I'mOnlyTwentyOneYearsOldForFuck'sSake!
I crave forgetfulness. I pine for oblivion. What I need is constant distraction, because facing the shit is really not working. And fleeing only takes you as far as where you've started out from. Back to the start, over and over and over again.

In envy, I read and re-read the verses that Alexander Pope wrote in his poem 'Eloisa to Abelard':

" The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd. "

I would have felt sad at this were I still the existentially angsty, emo sixteen year old me. But now I just think I keep proving myself right, even if it's about something wrong.
The point I'm trying to make is that you're all alone, whether you're depressed or sick or just minimally sad about something. Nobody every goes out of their way to come and simply see how you're doing. It's disgusting.
Maybe they'll send a couple of text messages or call you up at most, and then you're left to your own devices. And this would have hurt me were I a little bit younger but now I know to feel annoyed. Annoyed and irritated and pissed off, because I've stupidly gone out out of my way to make somebody better, before.
I'm just so damn angry.

Of teeth and wisdom.

The unbearable pain that is having teeth taken out. I had one wisdom tooth taken out last Tuesday. They had to file at my jaw bone to get the tooth out and I was awake through all of this. True, I was doped up and all I kept trying to do was hide my unshaven, hairy legs from the really hot dentist patting my hand, but all of that wasn't enough to distract me from the guy jerking my head from side to side trying to pull the tooth out. And let's not talk about the stitches! I think the Novocaine might have started to wear off by that point because I could feel the needle going in and out of my gums and I could feel the thread moving through.
And now I look like I've been abused, with half my face swollen the size of a basket ball. I can't talk, I can't eat and that's basically the end of my world as I know it.
There's really no particular point I'm trying to make. I just want to whine. And since I can't do it physically, I'll do it by writing.
Life's a biacth. I hate this.
And yet, I can't help but look forward to seeing the hot dentist again. Must remember to shave legs this time.