The more I think about it, the more I realize that I stopped maturing at around age 12, and the only thing that changed was my outlook on life. My perspective which was once an over privileged kaleidoscope of bright colours and lofty dreams has now rotted away into a cynical, melancholy outlook on life that only a regretful old sinner on their deathbed should ever have to be subjected to.
I don't know if I like my parents or some of my friends. I don't know if I like anyone, or anything. I don't know if I like myself. I don't know what's genuine, and what's fake. And it never ceases to astound me how many regrets I can have at this age.
The only thing I find beauty in anymore are the waves crashing against the tide wanting to burst out of the ocean. My identity is something I toy with. I don’t know what it is and I want to hate it, but you can’t hate something you don’t understand. As these daily struggles pronounce themselves I feel that all options are limited. Like where do I go from here? I feel stifled and want to break away, but what am I breaking away from. It either this way or the other. I’m stuck in this box not sure how think or step outside of. I want to be a leaf, free in the wind, but I’m just stuck in the mud, doing things I probably shouldn’t be doing. Exposing myself to things that aren’t healthy. My lifestyle should be scrutinized, but it isn’t, it’s actually glorified.

          Is something wrong with me?

Maybe. But it just leads to my emotionless actions. I do things, without thinking will I hurt someone. In my head I’m like fuck it, it’s my life I’ll live how I damn well please. No need to please anyone or care about how anyone feels, because I’m addicted to this and this makes me feel high. It’s like adrenaline rush every time. I feel invincible and the fucked up thing is you know what happens to people who think they are invincible… some shitty things happen to them, because they feel like nothing could go wrong in their world of lust, lies, enjoyment and pleasure.