Nothing to me seems to be sufficient and maybe nothing that I will ever do will quench these pangs of meaninglessness. Not to say I am not blessed to have food to eat, clothes to wear, and a roof over my head but this vacuuming abyss eats at my everyday until I fall to sleep in question and unescapable doubt that I will one day attain meaning.
I find happiness in random, spontaneous, compulsive moments that I wish and dream into action. I do not find enjoyment in rules, regulation, norms, conformity, and anything and everything that has to do with restriction. I know that is why I find alcohol so enticing. Motivational factors for drinking for me are not necessarily the absence of inhibitions but the implications it brings for the friends around me who can not portray their inner-most desires.
I can also face the facts of my selfishness. YES! Behind this face of boyish-good-looking charms is a man of split personalities. For someone who was so susceptible to peer-pressure, people-pleasing, and door-matting I made it a mission to only satisfy me, myself, and I. This conquest of greed has not only left a foul taste in the mouths of many friends but a haunting sense of hesitation when a mention of my name floated aimlessly in conversation. I am constantly making a mends with friends but most importantly settling a bad case of trust and mistrust within my subconscious. I hope that I can find trust in others that I so foolishly gave away as a party favor.
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