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We all spend so much time not saying what we want, because we know we can’t have it. And because it sounds ungracious, or ungrateful, or disloyal, or childish, or banal. Or because we’re so desperate to pretend that things are OK, really, that confessing to ourselves they’re not looks like a bad move. Go on, say what you want. … Whatever it is, say it to yourself. The truth will set you free. Either that or it’ll get you a punch in the nose. Surviving in whatever life you’re living means lying, and lying corrodes the soul, so take a break from the lies for just one minute."
A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby (via fuckyeahexistentialism)(Source: thechocolatebrigade, via fuckyeahexistentialism)
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starving and denial
i’ve never gone after what i want. but i’ve never known what i want. maybe i don’t go after what i want because it seems so impossible and implausible in this world and i feel like it could never actually be attained.
it makes me feel like the things i want don’t mesh with the reality of the world i exist in, and makes me feel hopeless. as if even if i could go on and reach for the things i yearn for, there is no point because they are too much or too artistically idealistic and of notions only.
i wade in indecision, going along with what’s expected of me or whatever can be confined to convention. i do well because of my proper exterior, but my heart’s not in it and it all feels so null.
i’m in constant denial of all my needs, physically and emotionally, starving myself until i find all that’s left is a skeleton kept going only by depression and the inability to finally end it all. i’ve starved myself into an internal death, and it leaves an emptiness and sorrow that nothing can fill. not food, not love, not control… nothing is enough. nothing is ever enough when you’re black and bottomless.
