Thirst

2005-07-02, 2:03 p.m.

At the start of each moth, then each week, then each day I promise myself that this will be the first day/ week/ month of the rest of my life. Dreams will be fulfilled, destinies reshaped, lessons learned, ect., ect. I go so far as to write out detailed plans on meticulously hand drawn calendars: 9a.m. - aerobics, 9:30 - breakfast, 10a.m. - search classifieds for job openings, 10:30 - research transfer schools, 11a.m. - try to keep from blowing brains out...

I've always had a sense that there was some mysterious other that eluded my grasp; some object, activity, or state of being that kept me from experiencing true happiness, from being satisfied with my life and myself. No matter my achievements or failures I always end up feeling the same - lacking. I think that I've been unintentionally keeping myself in this rut because it provides me with something tangible to strive for; it justifies my feelings of dissatisfaction and inadequacy. Who wouldn't feel sad if unemployed, out of school, and alone? My present circumstances allow me every right to be depressed, which I think is the reason I find it so easy to remain in them. The need gnaws at me less when I know what and why I'm lacking.

I have to admit it's somewhat of a relief to allow myself the belief that my unrest is the result of such common, easily remedied problems. There is nothing worse than an unfulfilled desire except an unfulfilled desire for something unknown. It's like being desperately thirsty but not knowing what it is to drink.

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