When I was in church (I don’t know why I say was as if I don’t still go almost every week) I heard that true happiness is in God. Or something like that. Happiness can’t be found outside of God. I remember thinking in the shower one time that I didn’t find that with God. I wasn’t happy. I was still just scared. I’m not happy now either. I was in a constant state of worry with him and now I’m not much better, not much worse.
I finished watching the latest episode of Angel Eyes, a drama now being aired, and I hated that I had to wait for the new ones to come out. Apart from that drama I’m watching two awesome reality shows that are also currently being aired and that, therefore, don’t have all episodes released. I hate the wait in between, but I think it’s good because it stops me from living like a dead person because of the lack of sleep that comes with watching a drama one episode after another.
I have about five loads of laundry to fold and I hate that I have to. I hate that I have to do a lot of things. I wish I could just stay in bed for as long as I wanted to. I even hate that I need to eat because I need to leave my room to get food and there’s nothing I want to eat anyway; nothing that’s here. I hate my bladder too. It’s always been weak. I always need to pee very often and it’s just annoying. I don’t want to go to the bathroom so frequently.
Anyway, after the episode was over I wanted to watch something else, but I knew I had the laundry to take care of. I need to finish it before the weekend is over. But I don’t want to. I hate this childish mentally of mine, which isn’t really childish, I just hate that I’m growing up. And that’s childish isn’t it? I always wished that Never Land was real, or I thought it would be nice if it was, if there really was a place where children could remain children forever. That thought was in my head one day this week. I had never had it before, but it didn’t seem strange to me.
Still straying from my point, which is exactly why this is going into the Ramblings category. I joined Instagram this week I think and I followed a few accounts that post pictures of Lee Hong Ki; my latest idol crush. I don’t think they’re called celebrities in Korea. I hear the word idol a lot. And I’m following his account too. Anyway my home page, or feed, or whatever it’s called in Instagram, is full of his pictures and I don’t know how one person can be so cute and lovable, but I’m not going to immerse myself in K-pop because of him, or anyone else. I’m not that kind of person. I’ve never chased after celebrities. I’ve never gotten pictures of them or known when their birthdays were, or anything else like that. I’m not that huge a fan of anyone. And it wouldn’t make sense because I wouldn’t get what I want from doing that.
Before I began writing this I went to the kitchen to get an oreo ice-cream cake thing that I had last night. There was one left. It was gone. I came back into my room thinking about the k-pop thing and saying to myself that getting into it wasn’t going to make me happy so I shouldn’t bother. I’ve known that all along. Is that why I don’t go after anything? Maybe that’s a part of it. The other part is that I want to be great right away. I don’t have the patience to work from the bottom up little by little. I want to be really good at something right now. Maybe that’s why I think my life is wasted; because I’m not really good at anything right now. Oh and I keep looking at what others have done. I don’t know why I keep comparing myself to other people. And why I had to grow up on television and in this society and subconsciously decide that they are both right about what’s beautiful and what’s not (and of course I’m not).
Anyway what I thought when I came back from the kitchen was that happiness will never be found here, in this life. And then I had like a well thanks God for putting me here kind of thought. And then I thought briefly about the happy Christians that exist, happy to be living doing the will of God, looking forward to heaven. Well they are happy.
It’s like I’m living in this great darkness where spots of light appear randomly. When they appear I smile and dance in them, but they eventually disappear, and I live off of the memory of them until another light appears. Until another light appears, I can do nothing but remain in the darkness. And I seem to be okay with that as much as I’m not. Does that make sense? I read in someone’s blog post once that depressed people like it, and I thought to myself one time – well more than once – that maybe I like it. Maybe I like being like this.