Restlesness.

It never goes away. It fades sometimes, especially if I am working on a project, but now that the future is a dystopia of boredom, the restlessness lingers.

I miss goals. I miss being optimistic about the future and having these ideas that if I just strive, hustle, put in the work, things will land in my favor. This, of course, is not true. It doesn’t matter how much one strives, or hustles, or puts in the work, sometimes dreams remain dreams until they wither and become bitterness.

Brittle.

I try not to be bitter.

Or brittle.

I fail an awful lot.

I’ll add it to my list of failures.

Some days, I wander. Most days I wander lost.

No. All days I wander lost.

I’ve not had direction in so long, I don’t even know what it means to have direction anymore.

Wandering. I guess the whole purpose of wandering is to have no destination. The journey.

Drivel.

Yet. Humanity is a mass of wandering, destination-less individuals.

Asking why.

And never receiving an answer.