drained

sometimes, like now, i feel as if every different emotion and piece of me is a tiny string tied to a very small rock. Each of these invisible spider-threads is tossed out through my shoulders, and back, and legs, and arms, until i have millions of rocks clattering behind me, catching on every little bump in the road, making me work a hundred times harder for every step, never truly running in the wind, but simply trudging. To slowly grind your muscles against your tendon-linked bones, to grab a rock ledge, and pull yourself up agonizingly far. That is what each day feels like. I wake up, if i slept, with the ideas that i can change myself, and so the world. By the end of the day, all my thoughts are beaten out of my like a criminal's confession, leaving only the hope for tomorrow. Then i dream. Each piece of my life has its own horrible moments and its own amazing moments. The depths that people will go to in order to achieve their own ends disgusts me. Especially when they act subconcsiously, because it is not their fault that they work and react and live the way they do. At leas that is what i tell myself about others; i hold myself to much higher standards. I inherited my father's self-perfectionism. I cannot stand when i cannot do something, which i hate. The inablity to complete a task that was assigned is something that i cannot abide by, yet i seem to be constantly in a situation where i am forced to make a choice between one thing and another; watching the un-selected option disappear into the ocean. Humans are so temporary that we are required by natural law to copulate as quickly as possible; we live 80 years before we lose the last of our functions. I do not want to die in my bed, no matter the purpose. I want to die in such a way that i will remember the feeling, the pain, the heat, everything. To see the world under such a different concept would take a lifetime, not the instances i have before i leave everything behind me. I have a fascination with death, it can be violent, angry, peaceful, kind, almost anything. I want to die a million times for the world's problems. I want to fix myself, so that i can fix others. I want to be myself truly, not someone else, just myself. But i can't, and i can't move on, and i can't end my life, and i cannot even find what i am looking for. Instead i am trapped, in every sense, eternally following my own imagined and created hopes.