Whatever happened to..?

Me.

I don't seem to like me very much right now. Just now I heard myself spurt out an expletive I didn't mean at all. I was shocked myself. Now I'm no stranger to expletives, and I believe that, when spoken at that precise time when the situation calls for it, an expletive works perfectly. It's still not a very nice thing, but that's the Joseph of late for you.

Lately I've been oscillating between sleepless, exhausted, lonely, ranty, cranky, sad, disappointed, confused, and all other points in between. Sure there have been good times, when I was hyper and relieved and genuinely happy and was actually having a fun time, but all these bright spots just pale when I sit back and ponder and allow this gloomy darkness to envelope me.

Why do I get too affected? Why can't I just shake off this Superman Syndrome? Ironically, I've been suffering from a bad case of inferiority complex too. Am I contradicting myself? Or am I just a plain wreck? Maybe I'm bipolar? What's wrong with me? Maybe it's just the weather?

I can't seem to be in-synch with the world. Or maybe it's the world I choose to have that's the problem; maybe I shouldn't expect much. As if I have been expecting a lot after all. As if I haven't been pessimistic enough lately.

God knows it takes precious little to make me happy. Why am I denied my little joys? Denied by my own doing, perhaps. Denied by the world I chose to create. Denied by the cosmos, too, most probably.

Am I complaining about the littlest things? Overly whiney again? Maybe, maybe not. I realise that as transparent as I may seem to everyone, and despite my reputation for being weird and emo and 'stress personified', no one except myself can tell the extent of the wreckage that is me.

Well, perhaps Sgt Pepper would know.




(And this blog entry, like the previous one, is not one for Multiplying.)