Why.

I have no idea why I'm writing this post. I felt like I should write something. Say something. I survive best when I don't think. I should just lie down and enjoy the orchestra played by the thunderstorm. There're lotsa things that I can't comprehend, and has no way to do so, because I care. But care seems to be rather worthless if the people and things involved do not possess a mutual feeling. People tends to complicate things. I'm one of them. But when I really desire simple things in life, they seem to slip through my fingers, like sand does when we grip too strongly with our fists. Am I gripping too strongly? But I thought I've changed. I take steps backward. I try to see from other people's perspectives. I've compromised. Too egoistic? I'm afraid at the rate I'm going, there's no more pride that I could talk about. I am so, so, so tired of life. Feeling very angsty, very lost. What should I do? I used to be so full of myself I'm like a walking balloon. What I am now? A mere deflated, punctured balloon. Can I be mended, and fly into the sky freely again? Thoughts are too negative ("Be positive, Kexin!" says my shrink). Easier said than done? Not making any sense with what I write again. Think I need to take writing classes. Or listening classes? Or thinking classes? Haha.

p/s: Prison warden seems to be an intriguing job. I feel like if I want to help myself, i need to help someone.