My Brain says Suck It, My Body has no Comeback.

Its true what they say you know. LA is no place to raise a kid. I look all these people telling me there is something wrong with me and see values that are infinitely more fucked up than mine. Is it like this everywhere? perhaps, but to a lesser extent I think. Different places allow different ways to vent the built-up. A variety of ways to dispose of it. In Los Angeles you have this city of people that are haunted by small demons existing almost only due to past experiences. They never let them out and an apology is enough to drop something in this town, on the surface anyway. God forbid you punch someone, LA deems it avoidable and cruel, despite the poetic justice that sometimes is just asking to be served.

It wasn’t always this way for me, 2 years ago, I didn’t really think about the deeper issues as much. Life was easier. Ignorance was bliss. Something happened to me along the way.

This deeper thought process is a bit of both a curse and a gift. I’de call it over-analyzing. That’s what category it would theoretically fall under anyway.

On one hand it helps me avoid unwanted consequences by questioning everything. On the other it proves to interfere with my social life by forcing me to ponder agendas behind actions and meanings behind sentences of the very people I thought to undoubtedly consider my friends at a point not too distant in the past.

Seeds of Void Grow Into Inspiration Trees.

“Maybe you’re better off this way”

These are lyrics from a song called passive.

Have you ever watched a movie and wished that you were the main character?
The sacrifices being unimportant.
Of course you have, but do you know what that signifies?
Its a WANT to be someone else. Someone who has a more interesting life than you. Someone you wish you were for whatever reason; The women, the action or the overall purpose of the persons life.

Its natural its not like you have a choice. This WANT just comes. But it is a subconscious manifestation of not being happy with your current life.

But then there’s is another way. Perhaps the void gathered where purpose should be, fuels you to create things. Write, draw, or otherwise push something that signifies how hopeless your life has become.

I’m not going to lie to you, not having purpose inspires you.