Fucking pointless:

 I work a pointless job. Getting stressed on a regular basis doing things that don't matter and aren't meaningful. I'm a part of a business whose primary purpose for existing is to satiate people's temporary, unhealthy cravings. I try. I fail. I'm not good enough. My brain won't function as it should. All because of a concussion from a stupid bus accident 5 years ago which should've never even happened. I somewhat blame myself for it. I guess I should've payed attention. I try harder. I still fail. I'm still not good enough.  


No matter what, when I speak, I'm misunderstood. It's always been like this. Even among my true peers, which are extremely few in number (though far less frequently). So I suppress my true self. I become disconnected. Okay, that's not a good strategy. I think. I think. I think. I keep thinking. My brain doesn't shut up. It won't shut up. I need a task. I need to create. I need to speak. I need to read. I need to play, with ideas. With words. They are, after all, the ultimate creative tool.  


I have Jesus at least. The son of God. He was human. I tell him what I think. I tell him what I feel. I know he hears me. I know he cares. But the conversation is one sided. I probably need to transform more. 


Oh well, at least I've got one true friend who is only human. Someone wiser than me. Someone who will listen to me. Someone who, I think, might just be the greatest philosopher alive. Thanks, Nick. 

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