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16 May
2017
It Takes One To Know One.
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A Bipolar Mind in a Uni-polar World.

Being a human is quite a remarkable yet strenuous thing: we’re born, go to school, get a job, pay bills, and die.

I often think about this thankless cycle.

What’s the point in dragging my useless life on and on, when in the end, I won’t make a dent of difference?

Whenever I tell my parents, boyfriend or therapist this, I get the same generic response: “You can’t think like that! There is so much more to life than all that.”

I feel like that’s just a lie that people tell us so that there isn’t global depression.

How would people make money if they really understood the truth?

People like to say that we’re all here for a reason, that life is a precious gift and that I should be thankful.

The truth is it’s not a gift. We’re all just results of Earth’s placement in the solar system.

The truth is we exist due to math.

We are just anomalies in the universe. Is it really so special?

I’m not trying to sound like an emo 2008 teenager.

I am constantly told that I’m pessimistic and that I should think more positively (like I hadn’t thought of that).

I think people who see the world as it really is are considered depressing because reality IS depressing. We all have our hopes and dreams, myself included.

There are so many things that I want to do with my short life, but I can’t help but feel that it’s useless in the grand scheme of things.

It feels useless to burn so much energy chasing after my dreams when all of my efforts will fade away into oblivion.

The universe doesn’t care. 

I feel like I am caught in the middle between two magnets: two opposite poles repelling and attracting me simultaneously.

I am both of these poles (I am literally bipolar.)

I have all these aspirations and dreams and life can be so beautiful, yet humans are disgusting and we are bound to blow ourselves up or something.

I want to touch someone, help them and love them.

I want to cry out of happiness and laugh at stupid jokes.

Instead, I cry out of desperation and seek pleasure in minuscule things to distract myself from my misery.

I want to have hope, but I only have fear.

I want to dream, but reality slaps me in the face daily.

I don’t want to see the world as it is, but as it should be.

I always have two lingering personalities in my head that whisper different things to me. 

I guess I just have a bipolar mind in a unipolar world.

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