reality in reality

if life were a novel mine would be a tragedy, every chapter the hero would be slain each way in a more gruesome fashion than before til the gore became too overwhelming and it was thoughtlessly simple to put the book down... or would it promote you to read more? in my life ive failed to suceed at almost everything, and its my own fault. time after time again i fucked up my chance to do something, everything down to balancing a bank account so when its time to get payed i dont owe my whole paycheck in overdraft fees. has this affected my lifestyle, how i treat others? has this affected the fact that i only have about 5 good friends? reading this you probably would be surprised at the fact that ive never tried to kill myself, but thats because i believe you are a coward if you dont face your problems and an idiot if you cant solve them. i think if i didnt have the calm and the consciousness i would be in a darker place but all these things dont effect me. some people flaunt their relationships like it makes them feel like theyre on top of the world, is it the truth or do they have something to hide? you take advantage of the things you have its only natural, then when its gone you realize how much it meant to you, how much you needed it. either in time that feeling will pass, or it will worsen and build up until you crack and everything seems like its out to get you. my hearts beating heavy right now but im sitting perfectly still, if it were still summer id be dripping sweat. the fall weather has arrived and it always does something to me, i cant say it makes me lose sleep cause now-a-days anything can cause that. am i just another product of the media or am i someone different? was that phrase a product of the media or was it my own thought? if i could peel back the flesh of my head and crack open my skull id trade you brains and see what its like to miss out on normality. you dont care, you probably stopped reading long past this part. here goes another spin off of so called artistic vision. i dont want artistic vision, i dont even care what that is, i want a world i can be comfortable in. ive been writing a lot lately, but what inspires me to? what inspires any one to do anything? the worlds moving so fast now that every season seems shorter, years ago feel like months ago, and months ago i cant even remember.

im afraid of growing old because as bad as my memory is now i dont want to see what it will be like then. ill forget ive written this, forget who my friends are, forget what used to be fun. ive already forgotten that, i cant make jokes or be an inspired individual. i tried so hard at so many things, if you know me now i guess you caught me at a bad time...but i have a gut feeling its only gonna get worse. is it too late to change or am i just plainly doomed.. you reach the point in your life when you realize all this and i think ive hit mine about 20 years too early.