Living: What does that feel like?

The Tower


At this point in my life I am frustrated, impatient, and sad. I want to be places that I am not. I want things that I have no access to. I want to change the past.

I am tired of living the way that I’m living. Sad that I can’t just snap my fingers and see the changes I wish for on a daily basis. I can’t reach my goals. Everything seems impossible to me.

Why did I make the choices I made in my youth? Why didn’t I see my potential? Maybe I never had any. Maybe it is gone.

Maybe I could keep trying, but what if I fail? What if I fail? What if all my hard work goes for nothing?

I wish I had more help with my kids. That alone would help me achieve my dreams. I could work more which would lead to me making more money which would then lead to me being able to 1. get a car, 2. find a nice place for my family to live, 3. pay off some debt. I could also go to school hassle free.

Sadly, I don’t have much help so every day I feel stuck in a place I don’t want to be. Like a useless tango which involves me doing nothing at all. Making no moves to follow my heart, discover my dreams, and live.

Then again, maybe I should just kill myself again, work and work, never sleep, go to school and just do it. Maybe I’m just full of shit.

Or maybe I’m just tired of trying so hard and reaching nowhere.

Really, I just want to start living. I just want to know what that feels like.




  1. I don’t know if the entry is fictional or not, but I would feel so horrible to give the “Like” to it, which is basically a cosmetic for a post, that this post in my eyes at least does not need.
    The situation described really feels like a chokehold, and being on the outside of it can easily make a commenter like me sound like a wise-ass, so do not take it too much to heart (if your heart does not like it!)
    The story, fictional or not, is I think, focused too much on what already was and what could have been – both signifying the past. The way we tailor the world we live in and grind inside our daily lives, leaves us often with much regret, sadness, tiredness we cannot seem to shake off, we get wishy-washy, scared and explosive with energy, only to collapse in predetermined failure the next second.
    To the real person of this story, or the fictional one (since I am not sure, but does it even matter? 🙂 ) :We, ourselves, need to remind ourselves why we are living. We are taught to hunger and want more, but it is the simplicities our bills and office jobs and dead dreams don’t let us see which are how to live with a smile. Taking heed of a sunset, touching a freshly bloomed rose, smelling the wildflowers, seeing a child’s smile, whistling a tune, eating icecream (at least 5 scoops for me please!), dancing, twirling around for no one, anyone, ourselves, some person in particular, freshly brewed coffee, abrasions of love on our heart – take one today and let it make you happy. Take another one tomorrow and let it make tomorrow happy too 🙂

    • The post is entirely real, based on feelings that the above picture brought to me. My past has haunted me forever. It seems as if I can’t escape it. No matter how hard I try it always knocks me back down.
      I have moments of happiness, however with the current events of my life I struggle daily.
      Thank you for your comment =)

      • I am so sorry that you feel this way, if you need to talk or anything, I am here.
        Feeling the same way often, I always feel guilty for not knowing what to say, because everything I say can sound, to the receiving ear, as though I am demeaning, lowering or negating the suffering.
        I can tell you what I do when I feel that way. I turn to hobbies, I turn to art, creation and expression in any way. It is not always good art, and it doesn’t heal a damn thing if you ask me, but it makes me get a habit of passing my time differently. It also opens doors for socialisation, that feels less forced and more like casting your scream into the gorge. perhaps someone with similar interests and something that can help inspire me.

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