I am entirely lost in life, which I hate saying because it seems so much the privilege of the privileged. I always wanted to be a copywriter but not anymore. I'm not a scion of wealth or power, though I grew up in an objectively comfortable home. Sometimes I feel, in some way, that I am capable -- compelled, even-- to do so something interesting self-motivated, substantive, artistic with my life. And yet I am wholly incapable of being any of it. Basically I enjoy anything to do with creativity, esp in PAINTING!!! NUDE BODY PAINTING!!! *ahem!* JK! I hope that my job works along with my interest thru art, fashion and writing.
I want so desperately to be someone, to do something (though to no one other than myself) -- but I realize I have no idea what I want to say or, really, who I am. People constantly tell me to do neither this nor that -- and yet I find I'm terminally intimidated by the idea of actually defining myself, to the point of paralysis. I can't decide what to do with my life because whatever I do just won't say the right things, which sounds (and probably is) unpleasantly solipsistic.
I've allowed things to wither to such a point that I'm literally involved in nothing, interested in less and less and, frankly, worried about a slide into real depression. I have no idea how to make anything of myself, no idea what to make of myself, and no idea who to make of myself. I volunteer and fade to the back of every discussion. I try to figure out my objective, anything to reengage a passion for anything, but nothing comes.
I feel, very literally, as though I'm wasting away – strength, thoughts, time and feelings just crumbling aside. And yet I have no idea how to make it stop. I hate myself for even being this awake to my own complacencies and grudges and otherwise dead to the world. HELP ! I can't breathe anymore.
Pls! Cheer me up, cheer me up with :-
All time favourites, YUMMY~~~~