All my life I wait and wait for the right person to arrive at the right time to say the right words, words that will allow myself to do the things I always want to do. Where is the independency everybody told me about that I should have to be successful? Where is the determination and dedication to solve problems in my life? It's gone, just like my mind most of the days where i fill it with pseudo-progress; drawing figures with tails and ears and pretend it's useful for anyone. Where do I belong? Nowhere. I miss when my mind wasn't filled with rage, confusion and hurt. Bruised from ever lasting echo of my own voice yelling out in to the void. Where is everyone? Why am I invisible? Oh, that's not the problem, I know exactly what the matter is. The thing is, you cannot go life quiet and expect people to approach you... you will have to take the steps yourself, and nature does not care whether it hurts or not. I fucking hate it. I hate the helpless feeling, the powerless feeling, of total meekness and vulnerability when faced the opportunity to open up. In addition, people don't understand. They yell at me because I am complaining about the wrong things. It doesn't seem to ever work out. I am really tired. Twenty five years old and I'm still struggling with the same basic issues. When will this nightmare end? When can I be myself 100% of the time? Or, will I just learn to accept the stupid fact that I will forever be reliant on other people? Because that's also the thing, the only thing that keeps me running sometimes is when working with others. Paradoxially I was taught that was wrong; but maybe because I misinterpreted the word "independency". I feel extremely weak-spirited and beaten down when asking for other peoples help. No, no, a boy like you will have to stand up for himself, flow against the current, carve your own way. It sounds so beautiful, and inspiring, doesn't it? Except it's not. It's endless years of mental torment; of self-blame, doubt, and frustration. You think I can take it on myself? You think I can go against the current forever and keep myself floating with a smile? You think that progress doesn't naturally drag you down? And you wonder why I'm always on the computer. This is why. It's a drug. Drowning in the river while people stand by the shore and talk about the dangers where they stand. What if I require someone to lean and rely on? Where are you? Lend me your hand and help me along like no one else is. Even though ... you don't exist, but I pretend you do anyways. It keeps hurting just like breathing water in to my lungs would. Maybe that's on par with nature; to suffer but find enough of a reason to survive. Am I a sick God's little play toy? Were they bored out of their mind and project themselves in an imperfect reality? Maybe that's it. Creating a false ideal in my mind of something, or even worse, someone that does not exist. I miss whoever they are. Please help me out from this inferno of an existence.