I am not perfect although i wish that i was...there is so much in life that i want to experience and in the scheme of things not near enough time. Our human life, our physical existence is so brief i could barely begin to master anything really. Yet i will not cease to try, if i know myself at all. I want to experience all that i can, i want others to see what i see. The little beauties and intricacies of life, how so much of what i feel is because of this. Of why i feel so sad or so happy, i don't believe it is a chemical imbalance, and no one has said it is in my case, that my emotions are what they are. That i am sensitive to life in a way that not everyone is, is it a blessing or a curse? or a little bit of both? I wonder to myself if i am narcissistic to even be writing a blog or if this may someday help me in a way to come to terms with life. I've always written and always thought quite a lot about what is the point of anything or everything....I've come to find myself crying sometimes at the end of the day when i leave a job, i am thankful but a part of my heart hold anger i never knew and spite towards something that i feel holds no good for me, no advancement nothing worth my time aside from the paycheck. some might say that that is alright but to me it is murderous to my being, to waste precious time. Time something i have said we have not enough of, time i could at least spend with those i love or advancing my knowledge or doing something to help others. Instead i work hard and care and am returned with a hollow sadness sometimes turned to bitterness and anger. I've got to move on to something else because right now it's got me clawing inside my own skin.
I wonder why i am who i am...why i feel the way i do, what is my purpose