I feel a little broken, lately. I might have not very good reasons, in fact. I have two lovely kids, a very understanding partner, a pet, a job… a life… but when I wake up I feel like… I don’t know. Broken. Just don’t wanna be here anymore, just don’t wanna be human anymore. A bird, I want to be a bird. When I was younger, and I thought about being a bird, it was an eagle I chose. Now… I only want to fly, so for the matter, it’d be fine just being a feather, or a leave, as long as the wind kept it flying further and further.
Seems that I’d like to escape. Now I read this, seems like I don’t want to see my children anymore. And that is so not true. But I do need a break, I guess. Perspective, a little air. My throat feels a bit strangled. I am unhappy.
I don’t have to be unhappy. I have to be happy. That’s why I live, to be happy. Hedonism is always been a basic. Like underwear, if you know what I mean. And if I’m not happy, what the fuck am I doing around? Survive?
Well, yeah, I guess. Survive and help the species survive. That’s instinct.
And when I get rational, things get worse. Thinking is baaad. The alternatives are not very bright. So what do I do?
And there is no answer.