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this is me today who knows what i will feel tomorrow (1 Viewer)



My thoughts for the day. Nice to meet you.
When was it that I became disillusioned? When did the wonder in life disappear and the monotony begin? Is this what they call "The Real World?"​
When did I stop living and start looking for the meaning of life. When did believing in God become so complicated? Why is it the more I look for the truth the more I get caught up in history and religion? What is faith? Does it mean believing blindly, accepting something without knowledge or fact? Isn't that dangerous? Will I be "saved?" I don't pray anymore.​
When did I stop feeling people and start analyzing them? When did loving someone become so hard?​
When did I stop loving myself? Why did I stop feeling the music and start thinking about technique? I don't dance anymore. When did I stop doing what I loved because I was afraid others wouldn't love it? I don't sing. I don't draw. I can't cry anymore.​

A falling star falling wishes the death of dreams nonexistent, but in the mind of a child.​


Hello and welcome to the community, who. Enjoy!

At the risk of sounding like Forrest Gump, life is like a pair of too-large overalls—it takes time to grown into it.
Hello Who,

My quickest general answer to the sum of your questions is:

You began to see reality. Truth has opened its door to your eyes. It's just not a pretty picture. Yet there are diamonds to be discovered amongst the mountains of coal. As a survivor of years of poignant screams from Suicide as the logical next step of existence, the tortures of "seeing" and the consequent complication of all things making every moment seemingly the last sustainable, I relate to your expressed sense of emptiness filled with anguish. It is the cost of seeking knowledge and truth of life. The Valley of the Shadow of Death cannot be avoided along the journey toward true life. But it can be survived, and out of it come riches of life not otherwise known. That I am today alive, is firsthand proof of this. There is no victory without battle.

As for writing, pain is probably the best seed of the greatest writing ever done. We must cultivate and harvest the crop of experience.

With you in the field,


"Why do I exist?"


WF Veterans
Hello there, Who, and welcome to the forum. As to your question, I wouldn't ask this to myself. Accept that you just are - and try to make the best of it, even when things seem to be bad. Must sound false, but nothing is ever so bad that you cannot handle it. I know this from experience to be true!