Self-pity

I am the most selfish of fools.

Sometimes I feel so unmotivated. I'm not where I wanna be going on 24 yrs. old and I think I've pretty much given up on life. I feel like I have potential I don't care to reach. I feel like there's things I wanna do without actively pursuing it. I want a lap-drop. I want the hand-out. It's weird. Not caring , procrastinating, knowing deep in my mind that if I wanted to I could change everything. Drastically. Quickly. Efficiently. But here I sit every night in my bed, high as a kite, wondering if I ever wanted to change to begin with. If I ever want to face the real world or do I want to continue living in the fantasies of a constantly deluded mind cushioned by invisible good fortune. Living vicariously through anything or anyone outside the box, falling in love with it, smothering it to death, then finding something else to feed my addictions. I'm content most times with it just there. My life that is. Never too crazy, never productive enough. Just drifting in between on cruise control on the road of Ordinary. Content with the thought that average is enough. The most priveleged of mediocracy am I. How tragic if Caesar were content to be the wall flower, if Napoleon made excuses of his height, or Lincoln overcome by cowardice.

I too can change the world. I can? I could.....have.

I wish I could figure out why I'm such a lazy bastard. I sound so immature. Like a stubborn 5 yr old child. Why can't I have? Why Why Why?

I sound pathetic. No one has to tell me.

I know I do.