Things that make me sad.

Being a legal adult means absolutely nothing. You still can't live.

How there are so many nice people in the world but a few mean people can spoil someone's worldview.

When I see people at bars and restaurants together and they look miserable.

How it's necessary to waste four more years of my life at a facility of higher learning in order to "succeed." Subsequently, going into debt for doing so.

Racism on all sides. We're all just people, but so many want to think that they are more deserving or important because of the color of their skin.

Secrets make me really sad. Like, when I talk to my mother and I want to get along with her so badly but she is just wallowing in misery and I don't know why. She tells me I wouldn't understand but I think I understand more than she's willing to credit me for. I hate when she cries and keeps all of those secret pains inside of her.

Seeing anyone upset makes me upset.

The fact that I do the same thing to this boy who loves me that my mom does to me really upsets me. Sometimes one little thing he says or does sets off this chain reaction of thought, and I get so down and he never knows what to do. All I want to do is sleep, escape whatever it is I'm feeling or not feeling. I hate being that way.

Seeing children everywhere put into situations they should have no part of.

When people hate each other so passionately in the name of their god. I'm sure any god would be saddened. How religion, since its beginnings, has caused people to drive each other to kill each other because of their differences. How this still happens today.

I wish I was still excited to go to college and learn. It just seems so pointless to me now. How my feelings, my heart, has taken precedence over that desire. I know that my parents are disappointed in me because of it. That makes me sad.

Disgusting.

I woke up from a nap an hour or so ago. Then, I ate this big nasty cheesesteak with some big nasty onion rings and a bunch of big nasty cheese fries.

Now I feel all big and nasty.

I don't know why

I've been so up and down lately. One minute I'm really happy and everything and something little happens and I'm miserable. I try to be optimistic and all but it's just not working out. I don't want to spend four more years of my terribly short life in school, I'm sick of having to be dependent on my parents against my will, I want to go into the woods, as Thoreau would say, but I don't know how to escape the cycle. It seems impossible. My thoughts are everywhere, like, I'm so overcome with caring for this one person in my life, and the people who have raised me think it's unhealthy and pointless an I can't tell them how wrong they are about everything they've ever told me. And then they say, you'll understand when you're older, but I know that I never will because they don't understand themselves, but boy they sure believe that they do. I'm sick of doing things that I don't want to do. Staying home, midnight curfew, college, teaching. All I want to do is live somewhere decent with someone I love and write forever and ever and just look back on my life in my old age and think to myself, wow, I had a great life, without having to do all of these extra things that are considered necessary to be successful whatever that means. I know this is all running together and probably doesn't make a ton of sense. I'm just tired

So, the point.

I've been thinking about this for a long time. My reaction to another blog filled me with a desire to write about it. The point. The point of being alive, of existence.

I don't know what it is, and I never will.

Everyone is searching for it, the point. Politicians, pastors, teachers, students, intellectuals, scientists, men, women, you, me, everyone is.

We buy all of these things to make us happy, big houses full of empty rooms the parallel with our empty spirits, echoing with our sighs of discontent. We buy all of this stuff to keep us entertained, to make us feels something. We install games on our cell phones so we don't have to think when there is time to do so. We find comfort in our little groups of friends who talk talk talk and never really listen to each other. We stand in those little socialization circles at parties and shows and orientations, feeling the need to fill up the silence with meaningless words. We're all trying to quiet that small voice within us that asks "why?"

Sometimes it all drives me insane, wondering why I don't enjoy being with tons of people or going to parties. Wondering why my parents don't understand me. Wondering why I don't feel anything for anyone including myself, a lot of the time. Wondering why people hurt each other. Wondering why I was ever born.

Everything seems so pointless sometimes.

Then, there are these glorious, shining moments when we experience perfection, purpose, in life. I've had a few of them.

There was this one time that this guy was dying to go on a bike ride. I was like, no way, because I didn't feel like riding a bike. He got all pouty and all, so I caved. We went on a bike ride. I remember pedaling so fast, faster and faster, and I stood up, faster and faster, and my muscles were aching so poignantly and then I released, ceased to pedal and sat on the seat looking up at the lovely twilit sky and feeling absolutely everything, yet nothing at all. The wind was loud in my ears, and tears were forced out of my eyes by it. The air was clean and I was with a great person, and everything was entirely at peace. I felt alive.

Looking back upon those moments in my life so far, I can say this much: although I don't know what my purpose is, or what the point of anything in this life could be, I know that there is one. Maybe my point is different from yours, maybe it may not be the purpose we suspect it is, but it's there.

Sometimes you just have to ride that damn bike, even when you're feeling completely out of it. The ache is worth the release.