Love of Lights

I've decided I am more profoundly unhappy than I thought. I don't truly understand what it is or why it is that I feel this way. Though, I can attempt at a guess. I don't think I am the person I want to be, and have come to realise that the person I am isn't a changeable trait; it is something determined by current environment, genetics, and upbringing; it is something I dislike, but something I must accept. This isn't something I can run away from because it is carried within me as part of me; this sadness (or rather 'potential' sadness, as I will explain in a bit) will follow me wherever I go. I feel as though I can detect two levels of my emotional functioning. There is the surface level, which is very real, and fluctuates from content to unhappy depending on my interaction with the world around me.  For example, if I watch a really good comedian or eat a really nice meal or spend excellent time with friends, I will fluctuate to happy. On the other ha...

Perhaps catharsis does work. Perhaps tumblr is a cathartic weapon. I've forced myself to stop using tumblr during the week (mainly because I noticed it was an addiction and that it did nothing for my personal well-being; I often think up things like, "what am I doing with my life?" when I just scroll down my dashboard endlessly), but I'm starting to think maybe it does help in its weird way. Sure, I feel useless when I'm on it, but I feel useless when I'm off it too. At least on tumblr I can revel in other people's complaints about their inadequacies or anxieties or worries too. But no, that isn't ... I shouldn't do that. I'm doing a good thing by tackling my addiction to it; I just need to now do something that tackles my perennial guilt and anxiety concerning school and creative endeavour. In a recent 'agony aunt' post by author Maureen Johnson, she suggested time-blocking your days to give order to them, and then using at least...