Aiming

I get so tired of it all. Of pretending. Of always having to come up with something "meaningful" in life, It's exhausting. It's not that I don't get why or how to do it. I feel like I've gotten pretty good at it by now.
But still... Sometimes the role-playing just becomes too much. The pretending makes me sick to my stomach and I need to sit back and breathe. Which is okay, I guess. Except, that's when the thinking starts. And the thinking leads to despair. To that point where aiming seems aimless. Where I don't know  whether to puke, sleep, or just slam my head into the wall repeatedly until pain is the only thing on my mind.

Life’s not a song.

Life isn’t bliss.

Life is just this.

It’s living.