Content

Hello Lovers.

I suppose that this, being my first journal entry, should be about something worthwhile, and perhaps the reader may be able to get a little insight into the confusing and rather uncool person I describe myself to be. However, I feel that talking specifically about philosophical ideals such as Cartesian Dualism or the concept of Tabla Rosa would be a definite turn off, even to a veteran repeating this god awful process of reading all the wrong words I type with such clumsy and uncoordinated fingers. So, I’ll just hope for the best, and maybe all the wrong keys won’t be hit at all the wrong times, like I’m so damn infamous for.

As of this moment, I feel content. It’s an extremely strange feeling, not necessarily wanting anything. Technically, I haven’t even a reason for such a foreign state of mind, but I’ll try my best to explain to those of you interested enough to read on.

My life isn’t the worst life possible, understandably. I have a place to sleep, with clothes to wear and food to scarf down undeniably too fast in too great of amounts. Yet, I hold the firm opinion that I could be happier, even without the help of outside material items to tide me over until my next bitch fit. Emotions are my fault, said the wise junior. But then again, I suppose there is always a reason for shuffling feet or melancholy lips.

Here’s the part where you roll your eyes.

There’s always going to be one thing or another that isn’t straight perfection in one’s life, unless they’re too pessimistic or indeed, too optimistic to see it. I have problems, I’ll admit. However, I too admit that my problems are simple wisps of clouds on a sunny day to others. You think you’re too fucking fat, Stevie? Fucking hell, I’m dying of malnutrition.

I guess I’ll go feel guilty now.

But, surprisingly, I have lived with myself and those around me enough to be okay. Even though I have constant disappointment floating like heavy fog in my so called, happy household, I can accept that. I have enough wisdom to know that there are some things I can’t change, such as that boy in my free period who won’t look twice at me, or the dismal looks of those who raised me to be so much better than I actually am, occurring every time I walk into their line of vision.

Maybe this is why we have problems. It’s not just for the big man upstairs to have a nice chuckle, like so many (and even I myself) used to believe. It’s just because.

Because, I’m okay with being me. I’m content with smiling from a distance, or accepting my punishment on full terms of endearment, because there will be so many more sunrises to greet your sunsets. I’m content with this, right here and now.

I hope you all feel the same.
-Stevie