Sometimes I wonder how I feel, not that I actually know what I feel, compared to other people. I wonder how I feel at certain times, certain situations, and certain feelings compared to how other people feel them. I know it's a dumb thing to do, looking at others to set a standard for yourself. It shouldn't really matter a whole lot how you feel compared to others, but I can't help myself. Any who, I guess I would never truly know how someone would feel about something, and there's really no point in wondering. But if I tell myself, "Well, I'm not exactly really spiffy right now...", how would I ever know if I'm actually sad at all? I'm absolutely sure no matter how sad I ever get, at any one moment, there will be someone a lot worse off, maybe even in a similar situation. It's probably the same for me being happy too. I probably won't ever go into the extreme ends of either one, I'll always hover somewhere in the middle, which is probably a terrible idea itself.
But sometimes I see people that really seem anguished. They really seem happy. They really seem like they're going through something, and I feel like I would never be able to match those emotional highs and lows. It makes me think what I'm going through, if I'm going through anything at all. Of course...I'll never know...
I'm not sure I ever want to know to be honest. Sometimes, the truth really does hurt. Sometimes, it's easier to just lie to yourself, easier, but not exactly "better".
If you went through your whole life, thinking of all the wouldas, couldas, shouldas, the has beens, you'd go crazy, but if you never cared about, if you forgot about, them at all, you'd be ignorant and shallow.
Then I realized well, I'm not really going through anything at all now am I? Other people actually have problems, me, my problem is not having a problem to blame anything on. I will always be "ok", and quite frankly, I'm ok with that. It's a fairly bad way to think that you'll always be just ok, but either I've gotten used to the fact or I'm just not willing to do anything about it. Maybe it's both.
One day, as I prepared to take my usual late-night shower, I came across an apiphany of some random kind. Turns out I did have a problem, me. It wasn't the worlds fault, or just some happening, or I'm just unlucky, or not fortunate. I have no right to blame everything else in the world, but I will anyway, I wouldn't be able o live if I blamed absolutely everything on myself. I realized that I was my own prison. I am those cold, bars, that damp, rotten stench, that dark, erry feeling, the seclusion, that broken key. I hold myself in, and by jove (whatever that means...) I ain't letting myself out.
Maybe, though, someday, I'll get out. Maybe someday I'll realize that there was never a prison. Maybe I'll realize that all this was just another one of the many excuses I've made in my life. Maybe that day is today.