I guess I have this pretty normal obsession with truth. It's unfortunate there is no such thing as an objective truth; all this seeking feels like a wild goose chase but it's better than overzealous following. People are so idiotic. Honestly. I used to think I knew about the "greatest story ever told"- OH PLEASE. If anyone presumes to knows the Truth with a capital "T" and preaches about it, they should be held accountable to the original interpretation of their respective scriptures, for christians: bitches are worth less than men, polyester blend clothing is an abomination, your teeth should be smashed in if you eat raw grapes,  and if you work ANY on Saturday your ass should be buried up to your neck and killed with rocks. The way ignorant people posture around christian religiosity makes me sick; they pick and choose passages while pushing religion as an "all or nothing" proposition. Fuuuuuuuuuck that! Some shit just doesn't lend to modernity. Tradition and progress aren't exactly concomitant.

Eh, I'm too critical; religious diatribes aren't good for the soul- and by soul I mean, well I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about either.

Anyways, I think it's stupid when people say you should be happy with what you have, it's fucking impossible. I'm fucking choking on discontent- satisfaction is a white whale. Whatever, let's man the harpoons anyways. How can one be satisfied when you're alive? It doesn't make any sense! Then again, I'm just failing to acknowledge the human proclivity to paradox.

People are so idiotic. Fuck. Please pardon my wanton criticisms.

I guess my physical feeling has finally caught up to my emotional/mental state and now I feel terrible.

I always have trouble sleeping. Nothing is ever enough. I had a conversation online with this girl- who I was infatuated with in high school- who's cousin I met a couple weeks ago- and was  to (a strange gravitating attractiveness must be in their genes quod erat demonstrandum) and we talked about the people we still talk to from back in the day. It got me thinking about the de facto distance between myself and the ever changing cast of my life. It seems like the closest people to me spacially happen to be closest, at least nominally. Convenience, connection- whatever. Is what we have what we settle for or what we fight for? Is it what we want? I'm apprehensive about new connections for fear of losing old faces, but clinging to the past... oh the past, it's what I'm a history major for.

This is the rest of my life.

This is the rest of my life?

FUCK.

I don't know if this narrow path I'm following right now is the one that will lead me to a life I want to live. I am honestly thinking about transferring to another school and try to attempt to pursue something I really love. I want success, and not that narrowly defined yuppie success that's essentially synonymous with economic prosperity. I want to love where my life is, or the journey to whatever unspecified destination life will be; now that, that's my idea of success.

I'm having second thoughts about too many things to be comfortable with and I feel like I need to do something. I want change like Barack Obama, but specifically in my life. I keep hearing people taking charge of their life and making drastic changes. I'll admit, I've spurred some people on to risk it all, but when it comes to me- when it's my happiness or future on the line- I'm too conservative to even think of rocking my house boat.

My problem is that I approach everything strategically and every decision is carefully contrived. I weigh the advantages and disadvantages and usually make decisions that are a compromise between an inkling of contentment and following the path of least resistance. I try to eke by doing the least amount of work for the most amount of reward.

That has to change: I have to make it.