Rambling

Where do I even start.

It seems that every time I get on the keyboard, I always have something to whine about.

It’s just been a long day for me today, really. I’m writing this to relax, get things out of my head. Clean my mind so that I can be a perfectly happy person.

Student Health Services sent me a survey called “Healthy Mind” a few days ago. I took it, and I got a 24/27 on the possibility of being depressed. What the fuck. So I’m depressed I guess?

My original intention for writing blog posts like this was to put what’s on my mind into a blog post so that later I can read it again and reflect on it. However, I never look at them again. As paradoxical as it sounds, I’m still doing it. Sometimes I just do stuff without a lot of reasoning. I just do it for no reason. It’s just me. But I always put safety on my mind tho. I would never do things that might endanger myself in a heartbeat.

How can one person just be happy? I’ve been thinking about this question a lot lately. Happiness is like those Nike commercials. You want that body but you’re not going to get it. Nike makes you think you can, but you really can’t. You just can’t, you can’t, that’s it. People say, count your blessings, be grateful, be loyal, shit like that. However, the way I see it, the less you know, the less you see, the more grateful you are towards life. I’ve seen too much and I can’t help it.

“Maybe it’s just jealousy mixing up with a violent mind. The circumstances that don’t make much sense, or maybe I’m just dumb. I’m a chump.” That’s me right there. That’s why Green Day is the best band ever. I can always sympathize with Billie. You go Billie.

I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’m not happy lately. I still remember when I was in China, life was fairly simple. Although I was learning hard stuff in a very mechanical way, I didn’t complain about it. Wake up, go to school, do problems, do homework, go to sleep, life was that simple and I was a perfectly happy person. Occasionally I do really really well on tests, which made me even happier because I can use high test scores to bargain with my parents so that they can buy me stuff, like new sneakers or small electronic gadgets. I wasn’t popular in my school at all, girls didn’t like me, I wasn’t really outstanding in anything, but I was perfectly contented with the little I had.

Now that I’m in the States now. Land of opportunity and the realm of dreams come true. What the fuck is my dream? And why the fuck does it seem so far away from me?

Fuck.

Sorry for that, well, sorry not sorry actually.

I should have like, a catchphrase for finishing the blog post. I’ll skip this time and think about it before I post the next blog post. Good night folks.

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