I'm so tired. And not in the whole, I haven't slept for the last three weeks kind. But in pure, and utter exhaustion with life. My life. It has been so terribly long and untrustworthy and unhappy. And now my only goal is to survive it. My only goal is to find some way of life, some path, that happiness can actually sprout from. The only thing I care about is the feeling that life is worth it. But I'm tricky. Because I have to believe it, and fully and it can't be based off of anything except myself and my beliefs and my goals and my cares and my needs. My life has just got to start being about me. And that's hard, making your life about yourself. That is the most incredibly difficult thing to do because you have to give up everything and everyone else in order to do it. In order to fill yourself up, you've got to empty everybody else out. You have to depend on yourself. A responsibility to life that is beyond any other. I have depended and lived off so many other people throughout my 17 years. Their values, goals, humors, tragedies. I have eaten them up, choked them down and breathed them deep. But now, I'm vomiting them back up. Because within that whole process, I've forgotten the most nourishment I can possibly feel is from myself. Life, itself, is the most outward experience one can encounter and in turn be forced to have. But then life goes up a level and whispers the secret of the inner, of the soul. It crawls up on your shoulder, and then, only if you listen very, very carefully, it will tell you that the key to life in its most purest form, is to live for yourself and develop your own, values, beliefs, goals, disappointments and then to love all of them and accept them so fully that it doesn't matter in the slightest what anybody else thinks about them, thinks about you. But thats all so hard to do. Life is so hard to live.