There will be no paragraphs. These are thought vomits. Profanity included.
29. People keep saying that it's just a number. Fuck you. Yes, it's the number of years that I've been cruising instead of contributing. In 29 years of my life, I have gained nothing but an uninteresting personality that isn't worth noticing. There are kids and teenagers that are achieving more than I have. I hate the fact that all I've been thinking about lately is how can I get money. Money, money, money. Useless. I hate money. I hate things. I want to just walk, travel, and survive. But I'm afraid that I only want to because I think it's the ideal excuse to not being able to be GREAT. To travel and to meet people. Who am I kidding? I hate talking to people. But maybe because all the people I know only talk about work and property and politics. Things that don't really matter to me. Things that I don't think should even matter that much because they only give you a reason to categorize them, nothing more. Marriage and kids, stay off those subjects if you don't want me to make you doubt yours. I hate the fact that I get jealous of other people's happy selfies with their happy husband and ugly newborns. Ugh, take your happiness elsewhere. Don't share your happiness if you won't share my anxieties. I hate that that makes me sound selfish, but I am. So do what you want, please don't go out of your way to please me. But seriously, why the hell do I even feel jealous? I have anxieties about getting married and having kids. Maybe it's not about getting married or making babies. Maybe I'm jealous seeing other people being happy while I'm constantly miserable and volatile. I envy people who have a lot going on in their lives while I only surf Youtube and Imgur all day. Why the hell am I not doing anything about it. LAZY. No excuse. That's just it. Plus, anxiety is a fucking Berlin wall. Every night, I fall asleep to a voice telling me I'm ugly and useless. I've been trying to get over this for years but the more I acknowledge this problem the higher the wall. All these years of realizing, have I really been trying to climb over it or just coasting about, thinking about it? Because I'm tired and I don't even know where I'm at anymore. Being 29 obviously means nothing to my parents. I still can't drive out of the state alone. Compared to the US, Malaysia isn't even as big as any of its states, maybe 1 or 2 but you get the point. The fact that I'm letting this stop me from travelling alone might say something about my personality. Perseverance is not a quality of mine. There's a lot that I wish to be but go 'eh' when an opportunity presents itself. Be an avid book reader, for instance. Be calm. Be a great listener. Be helpful. Be diligent. Why do I associate myself with these values when I hardly do them? I keep thinking that doing these would turn me into the ideal me. But what does that make the current me? Am I not myself right now? It means that I know what is good for me but somehow, I'm just sitting in this car, filled with half packed bags. No, wait. Half empty bags, sounds more me. Saying half packed makes it sound incomplete. Half empty sounds like I haven't even started.
Let me just state it here for future Edd, because you have a high potential of forgetting this. Edd, you are already happy, you just don't see it because you worry too much. The idea that you have to earn a lot to be successful comes from your parents' beliefs, not yours. You can be happy as long as you can survive without depending on others and making them happy without taking anything in return because that is how you level up in life. The +1 amounts to something beyond this life, Edd. Please remember this. I know you believe it, you're just forgetful sometimes. Come back to this to improve the words. Don't deny that you love yourself just to be a depressed. Stop believing you belong with them. It's human to doubt yourself. Not that you want to be normal but a Jedi, you are not. But fuck it, just in case, let's to work towards it.
My left hand. In case you need to see my cleansing utensil.
Be happy, Edd.
