i have bored myself to tears, you know, if i could actually make water come out.

i detest being tied down in any way. in the make-believe world i live in i can leave any time i want, magically come up with money and get around, some romantic hippie roaming rambling bullshit. working for months and them possibly driving or taking the train twice a year has poisoned my brain with this idea. i am free. i don't like to live in the same room, date the same man, work the same job, bike the same street every day.
i know i am batshit crazy and hide it very well, and normalcy and being secure is a good thing. but i like to think that the early death of my brother has fucked up my entire life and i will use it as an excuse to be a total fuck-up and to act out at numerous times. that's immature, but i use it. i have. i stopped eating in college until my fair-weather friends carried me to the ER. i broke everything and stabbed myself and stayed in the psycho ward a few years ago. i drank and drove, acted like a selfish brat, fucked any stupid asshole with a tattoo (though still not as many people as some totally normal girlfriends of mine) and blamed it all on things that happened when i was a teenager.
using the same things as an excuse to not grow up, not take responsibility. i'm ashamed of myself but mostly ashamed my life hasn't been that terrible and i am still a stupid brat taking advantage of it. so many people have it so much worse.
i don't know where i am going and afraid that nothing will ever satisfy me. i can move to every shitty city in this country and onwards and date every kind of man (and really leading on and hurting some of them in the process) and work every kind of job and play every kind of role and change my wardrobe however many times but nothing will ever fit.
i dream of being able to fly multiple times a month, lately so vivid that i can see geese flying below me, the sun shining on their backs as they flap their wings. pretending to be content as different people could go on for so long. a deep unsettling is growing inside me as the years go on and still nothing feels quite correct. the pieces won't fit. lately when i drink i just hit a wall where i want to smash everything and pick fights just to feel something. i don't feel anything.

things aren't terrible, they are just normal. i'm just so bored. just wasting oxygen.