My tired eyes.
I wonder what it is about my nature that makes me so angry. I feel like often, a lot of the misery in my life could have been avoided if I just wasn’t so..spiteful, vengeful, temperamental. I forgot the Freudian term for it, but I always project my ill emotions onto other people. I make people close to me unhappy. And in turn, they run from my ridiculous attitude and leave me to deal on my own. But if there’s no one for me to vent my angers out on, what happens then? It feel like self-implosion, but I supposed it’s needed. I have a problem, and like all other problems dealing with self-discovery, I need to fix it alone. Or at least, that’s what the books say. But life can’t be guided by books, can it?
On that thought, why are there so many “philosophical professors” that think they can term all these unexplainable feelings and emotions into dictionary form? I feel like I’m going to explode from frustration and all that raw discontent is forced into some eight letter word.
But I feel a hell of a lot more than that.