As I sit in this beautiful place I can’t help but be depressed. There is entirely too much on my plate. I feel like belimic at a buffet.

First issue is a continuing issue. One I’ve dealt with since I can remember. My felf image. It’s wierd. I can see beauty in anyone. Anyone except my self. I see a lazy sloppy greasy ugly disgruntled mess when I look in the mirror. My reflection doesn’t even like looking at me.

Second I can’t help but be disgusted with who I’ve become. I am a far cry from what I envisioned I would be when I was young. I thought I would be something. I thought that I would be the type of person people envied. I never imagined I’d be what people strive not to become. I’m a dick most of the time. I can’t relate to people. And I feel isolated. The worst part is that I truely care about peoples feelings but not their problems. I am a depressed asshole. Probably one of the worst combinations out there.

Lastly I hate not knowing. I hate that I don’t know what most people truely think of me. I hate not knowing why people don’t like me. I hate not knowing what’s in store for me along this journey called life.

Despite all this negativity I am not afraid of the future. As a wise man once told me “The journey doesn’t end with the trail. It ends when you stop moving your feet.”