Rant,

I'm staring at a standstill, unable to move and gradually declining into self-hate, or some sort of pity that one might become (later-on) suicidal about.  And searching for the truth of the matter will mostly (surely) yield into the better part of nothing. Then thing about this sort of void I find myself staring at right now is the fullness of it, and in order to not drag on and on about the obvious irony of such a feeling, well, let's just say it doesn't make for great emotional stability. I attempt to mean that I am not really sure what the fuck I'm worried about. The main part of this "phase" is comprised of confusion about actions that I have already done a kazillion of times over in my life, yet for some reason they just seem brand new. I think I know what's gonna happen, and for a certain amount of time I am correct about the coming events, but this sort of "knowledge" just vanishes at the mere sight of self-deception, which if you ask me  is the worst kind of sabotage there is. I am willing, at some point in life, to completely construct this sort of comfortable facade about what's happening, be aware of it AND live in it AT the SAME TIME. Something that just nags me about it is the fact that there is just no big secret behind it, there is nothing hidden, everything is an open book, but to myself I just dwell in the thought that maybe there is much more complex stuff where there really shouldn't be, and that makes for some rather confusing loose ends. There is a point where it will all cease, I of all people should know that I've been through hell and back (emotionally speaking) and that I could care less about pathetic emotional questionings of this kind. But then again... what is one's self without some sort of overcomplicated emotional shit?