The Art of Misanthropy

Doesn't it seem like sometimes you follow routine so much that you forget you exist? Like you just go through the motions and you wake up sometime between breakfast and your third class of the day, not remembering if you went to your other classes. You have to pinch yourself to prove it. Why is that the norm? Pinching oneself? Is it because it causes pain? Is pain really what makes us remember we're alive? Is life really defined by tragedy?

Sometimes, when things go well and the God of the masses doesn't smite me on a daily basis, I forget to think. Forget to have ideals. Is this what "normal," "happy" people feel on a daily basis? Numb? No passion for anything? No opinions? No wonder they're victims to the "socially accepted" norms of mentality. How could we expect them to be any different?

At times, I wake up in the middle of the year and realize I'm in a whole new place in life. A place I never said I would be. Or a place I previously envied, but find it strangely insatiate.

Sometimes, I wake up and I don't recognize who I am anymore. And I wonder where I slipped.

So I'm bitter. I have a lot of reason to be bitter. I remember making a promise to myself that I would never grow up to be one of the bitter, serious-minded adults that pervade the planet. But how can one stay completely true to that promise when you experience all the "wonderful" things life has to offer? Learn all the injustices and unfair things that happen in the world? Is ignorance truly bliss? Is apathy truly a way of life? Why is life absolute hell for all those people who don't fall in line to social norms, forcing them to be bitter toward all those who get special treatment for succumbing to their unsaid shepherd? "Sheep," I would say if it weren't so terribly cliche'.

There's not a lot to be happy about anymore. I wonder if social suggestion is truly escapable at this level of life. Like a stream confined to the restrictions of its banks. A stream fed by the hand of some uncontrollable deity. People have to eat. Have to have steady social relationships. Have to have clothing on their backs. Things which are undeniably and inescapably tied by social suggestion.

I'm tired of supposedly not being an acceptable job applicant. Is it my clothing? My appearance? The way I speak? The town I live in? I'm so discouraged in the status of my future that I just don't want to try anymore. I'm so bound by people's preconceived notions. What's expected of me. What people think of me. The person I was before as compared/contrasted to the person I am today. Trapped in a mold I've fought day and night to dispell for weeks, months, years. But how can I if I'm surrounded by those perfectly contented in it?

I'm so frustrated with my inability to choose a "career." In the conventions one has to follow to make a decent living. Pay back loans. Supply the necessities. Everything I think of has something terminally wrong with its prospects. Selectivity of the field, something completely opposing my convictions, the predisposition (or lack thereof) of wealth and social status to obtain the education and recognition to "jump start" one's career. Let's just face it. To make any sort of life for oneself, one must embark on an inevitable lifetime journey of shameless self promotion. And what about those who have SERIOUS self-confidence issues?

What if you just weren't made for this sort of game?

Perhaps I dream/dreamt far too big.

Perhaps I thought myself to be something I'm not.

I don't know anymore.

How do you kick-start inspiration? Motivation? Direction? Change?

How do you burn preconceived notions? Norms? Terms of acceptance?

How do you build your will?

How do you stay sane?