Everything feels so badly. I can feel my loneliness eating away at me, pulling me backwards into my regular spiral of confusion. I should have known that those few months of mild contentment were only temporary. They could never have lasted, and I was naive to think otherwise.

Sometimes I wonder what a life destined for happiness must feel like. It's a strange and foreign idea to me now, really.  I remember earlier when I used to be filled with hope and light. Hope for an escape from myself and my bounds. Light illuminating all of the dark corners and cervices carved into the confines of my mind. Looking back, I feel even more foolish for thinking such a concept is possible for one such as myself. 

My naivete surpasses me.

I think that I now understand what happiness and hope are, or at least are in my life. They are illusory and unattainable goals. I have no abilities to let me reach happiness. I have no more hope.

Justin once told me "You can't lose your hope. Hope is all we have." Maybe he was right. It would make sense. If hope is all we have, and I have no more of it left, well... then I suppose I am left with nothing. It would make sense.

I try to find hope. I try to find happiness for myself. I try so hard to connect with those around me, in hopes of creating a better, a happier environment for myself. But... I just can't. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. I am at a loss for deep connection. Where ever I try to look for an opening towards something, something with meaning, something with something different from what has now become routine for me, I only find barriers.

Such huge gaps and disconnects where there should be bridges and joiners... Such empty space. Such hollowness.

There is just such hollowness everywhere. There is meaning no longer.