I wish I could say I get my best thinking in when I can't sleep, but it's not true. When I can't sleep, I stare up at the ceiling and fret, but come to no conclusions, about every single aspect of my life. I think about the things I am dissatisfied with and how I wish they'd just eliminate themselves. I sit for hours and fantasize about what it would be like to not have to work, and then I wonder if it's because I'm lazy, or if it's because, on a level I don't want to acknowledge, I think there's something horrifically wrong with the way society works. Not only do I have to care for myself and my family, I am forced, by the need of money, to care for and comply with the will of strangers. I am forced to do things entirely irrelevant to my interests.

I worry that, even if I do get back in school and get a degree and a career, I won't ever be happy with what I do because I the only reason I'm engaged with it is because of a false sense of necessity. Sure, you can make the same argument that my dad does: If you truly love what you do, you never have to go to work; you get to. It doesn't work for me. All the things I can actually manage to be passionate about (which these days is self-contemplation, but barely) have no relevance to any career.

Do you know what I really want out of life? The only future I can legitimately envision myself in? The only future that I can imagine being happy with? I want to be a stay-at-home wife and mom. Yeah, I know it's hard work, and that is not an ironic statement. It makes me want to cry, because every time I've mentioned it to anyone, they say, "You can do so much better," like the one thing I feel would make me happy is below me. Fucking shit, I'm crying as I write this. Ages ago, I told B that's what I wanted to do--I'm pretty sure it was before we started dating--and he said the same thing as everybody else. You can do so much better. What the fuck does that mean? I don't understand why everyone seems to think this is such a lack of ambition. Isn't it more important to do what makes you happy? Yeah, it's not the modern thing to do, but I'm kind of old-fashioned about a lot of things you wouldn't expect me to be old-fashioned about.

I guess it's unfair to want the world to conform to my individual needs. Things would make so much more sense then.

My whole life I've lived by only one truly optimistic idea, that things will always get better with time. Situations change, but my feelings about them stay exactly the fucking same.

When I was 16, I thought getting a car would give me freedom. It symbolized the ability to flee the mundane and give myself the canvas of the world to paint with my imagination.

When I was 17, I thought turning 18 would give me the freedom I sought in the years before. By legal standards, I'd be an adult, finally in charge of my own decisions.

When I was 19, I thought moving out of my mom's house and into an apartment with M would be bliss. I thought we'd play house for a while, then run off and have crazy adventures like we'd fantasized about in the years before we lived together.

I never drove anywhere. I never really rebelled. I never left the fucking Southeast United States.

Why don't you do it now?

Fuck you! If I pulled a stupid stunt like that, I'd run the risk of losing the best thing I've ever had. I'm trying, to the best of my ability, to not fuck this relationship up. I made a lot of mistakes with M. I cannot repeat them with B. Besides, I'm terrified; I'm a horrible little sedentary chickenshit.

I don't feel like this all the time.

I just wish I could still believe I'll get what I really want someday.

Today I was nearly in laughing hysterics because of icanhascheezburger.com. Then I stopped because I realized that kind of thing is what I concentrate on to keep me from thinking like I have throughout this entry.

but srsly giez it wuz this big

I love this diary. It allows me a forum for my emotional diarrhea. It gives me a chance and the knowledge that I'm heard somewhere. I don't feel the same guilt for this kind of expression here as I would if I told someone face-to-face. This would only burden them, might give them the idea that they have to help me. I don't want to frighten anyone or give them the impression that I can't cope. I just want to violently project my vomitous emotions out onto some medium. Writing works best from me--I tend to have a blind hatred of things that are not explicitly stated. That and people always want you to explain art and poetry to them, and that gets so goddamn old.