Obscurity Through the Writer's Block

"And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
And you bleed just to know you're alive"

There are a million things I want to write about and yet I can't seem to formulate any thoughts into words. I've been on emotional overload for awhile and have wanted more than anything else to post, but alas I have chosen sleep instead. And now I'm staring at my screen, not knowing what I want to write and not knowing how to write it. Writer's block, I suppose. I'll try anyway.

Have you ever wanted to hurt someone--not to hurt them but just to tell them that you're hurting? And yet, you know that they know and that you're hurting them anyway by being your selfish self. And yet no matter how hard you try, you can't see past your own hurt. Someone told me recently that "we're human and just doing our best to get through this." Did you ever feel like being human isn't enough, that it's a lousy excuse? Do you ever feel like your life is a self-fulfilling prophecy and that the thing you want most is to prove yourself wrong?

This summer, I've sold out in at least two ways. There's a Columbia Facebook group that is called something like "F-- selling my soul, at least I got a good price." It's about i-banking, but I feel like I should join anyway. Though, I'm not so sure I got a good price. Have I stopped believing in ideals, in doing what's right solely because I know it's right? Have I gotten old enough to care more about the ends than the means? Is 21 old enough to get that cynical?

I give up on trusting people, on trying to compromise and make things easier for others. Why does that always end up leaving me with the short end of the stick? I try to give in, trust the untrustworthy because they seem so sincere this time, only to end up with all my belongings in a dirty heap on my front lawn, pleading with an unsympathetic listener.

Am I hopelessly naive to think I can change things and make the world better? Maybe it's true that no good deed that goes unpunished. Maybe you can't help people who won't help themselves no matter how hard you try and no matter how many people they're hurting on the way. Sometimes I feel like I should sell my soul just so I wouldn't care so much.

Sometimes I feel like I'm so old and I should have a way better idea of exactly what I'm doing and how I'm going to get there. Heck, my friends are getting married and having babies and I'm just lolling around, taking my time in school, pretending that I can take my time and that I never really have to make up my mind about anything.

And sometimes I feel like I'm so young and I have no idea how I ended up where I am and why and whether I should be here. I feel like running on home, donning my yeshiva uniform, and going back to first grade where reading is enough to get by and the social circles, while cruel, are at least contained.

My brain doesn't make any sense anymore. It tells me to feel things I don't want to feel and doesn't let me feel what I want to feel. It doesn't let me think clearly and doesn't let me make the decisions I know I want to make. And it leaves me a confused heap of a soulless person.