life-questions

When your feelings are misunderstood or not taken into account. It almost feels like everyone is deaf in the room & your screaming at the top of your lungs!
—  Not Knowing What Else To Try (via) thefewtheproudtherebellious
My friends say I am boring, but in reality I am just bored. I am so tired of this place and the people it homes. It is all the same every single day, I pass the same brick buildings and walk the same gum stained concrete sidewalks day after day. I nod hello to the same people as I walk to work and get my coffee at the same shop at the same time everyday. I am just so sick of everyone believing that this town is what heaven must be like when I swear even the devil himself would cringe stepping his foot inside our boarders. I am just not fond of all these people who march around pulling wads of cash out of their fat wallets and slapping it down in front of everyone as if that makes them superior, I was never a fan of button up shirts and slacks and people who stop at the bar and hit on the twenty year old bartenders before going home to their anxiety ridden wives. I have never been one who enjoyed gossip and cares much about who was fucking who or who tried what drug- each to his own is all I have to say. I just can’t seem to see the world in the way that my friends and family do, and them shake their heads at me in pity. They say that I could have it all here and that in year when I leave I’ll be dying to come back, but they don’t seem to understand that I can’t stay confined. The world is too big and beautiful to remain in one place. Why would God have made the sky so fucking blue, the grass so fucking soft, and the sun so fucking bright if I was meant to sit in rooms with gray walls, stained carpets, and fluorescent lights? He made extraordinary places and interesting people for a reason, and I am supposed to go out and experience both. I am supposed to fall in love with cities and meet countless people who will teach me about myself and let me mend their broken hearts and open wounds. I wasn’t meant to stay here in this brain washed place and I am not meant to go somewhere else to do the same for years and years and years. I won’t just let myself waste away.
—  I don’t want to go to college I don’t want to do anything so I guess you can consider me a dead beat.