It's interesting that amidst all of this turmoil in my life, I seem to be so peaceful. At least I have not freaked out like I normally would. It's this random time in the morning in which I suddenly feel so compelled to write that I feel like I should be published or something. I think that this is the equivilent of being drunk for me. I love you man. Really though, I keep searching deeply and finding just how stationary I have become, then I try to tell myself that I shouldn't be and that I'll change, and then I never do... at least I haven't yet. I keep telling myself that I'm finding inspiration in things like movies, and lost friends. It apparently isn't all that true.

Here's where I want to be: This is life, what am I waiting for. Why do I have so many reservations and why do I worry all of the time? What is the point of all the wasted time?

I guess it comes down to balancing out who I really am. Is that possible? It sure seems to be a slow process.

I love how I feel so crappy when I'm alone, and yet in order to get the motivation to get out, I have to overcome the very depression that I'm leaving to overcome, therefore negating the whole point of leaving in the first place.

Wishes and desires have become apparent and yet still unobtained.

I'm weird. Sorry.

I realize now that my motives for starting photography are not pure in nature, I miss the compliments and now I've an art form that is really just a glorified way of fishing for praise.

I realize how much I really do live in the past, and then when something wonderful happens I am unable to appreciate how wonderful it is. Like a dear friend finding a great source of happiness and me still bitter about things which were never offensive to begin with. Ambiguous enough?

I think that in a lot of ways I've given up. I can honestly point to multiple areas of my life where I have failed and had the intention of trying again, then just gave up. Stopped trying. It's almost like I'm trying to move on, but everytime that I look back on my life, I only have regrets or wishes to change the past, which I'm sure that I can do if I try really hard.

Basically I'm jealous. Of other people's happiness, or their talents, or their position. I feel jealous and then I get bitter, then I supress the bitterness instead of talking it out, which I should, so it builds and festers inside and then I write in my blog or my blue notebook. It doesn't change anything. Even talking it out wouldn't help if I didn't do anything about it. Which I never have. I don't have the guts to stand up to someone and say "I feel wronged, help me forgive" I place all of the blame on myself and let it consume me.

So that's where my depression comes from. It's real. It's ugly. It's hidden. It only seems to show up at this time when I'm alone. I wish that this could be cured with a helpful friend or a stern letter from someone who cares. I appreciate those things more than I can say, but this change has to come from the inside.

So now what do I do? I break the cycle and make life worth living every minute of every day. I think that I've tried that before and failed. Now I think that I've given up.

So how do I break a cycle?