the dreaming tree

be yourself. that’s what i’ve been told for so long. but here’s the problem: i don’t know myself. i don’t know what i want to do with my life. i can’t decide what kind of personality i have, because i have two or three that i use at different times. i walk around trying to convince myself that i don’t care what other people think about me, but the truth is, more than half of the things i do are trying to impress someone, or get noticed somehow. but yet i don’t seem to know how to relate to people, because a lot of people don’t have very high opinions of me. and why should they? i’m a megalomaniac. (thanks incubus.) i walk around thinking that i am content with what i am, who i am, when in fact i am nobody. i have done nothing worthwhile to this world. i don’t need an angel to come show me how this world would be without me because i realize that i have affected many, many people in my life. but i don’t feel needed. i know things would be different without me here; i know that i would perhaps be missed, but this does not change the fact that i feel, and remain, useless. i wish that i was known for something other than “that tall, shy, quiet dude (does he play basketball?).” but then here’s the rub: i cannot for the life of me motivate myself to do something about it. i sit here in my room and dream of doing great things and then fall asleep to do it some more. and then i wake up and realize that nothing got accomplished. again. i’m just a lump. this concerns me, because i don’t want to wither away into nothingness. i want to accomplish. i want to make someone proud of me. i don’t want to be the most popular guy on campus. i want to find my niche and dwell there content. why can’t i find the escape hatch and crawl out of this muck and mire that i wade into time after time? i’ve destroyed old friendships and hindered new ones because i am so anxious that i either do nothing, or too little too late. i indulge my flesh and ignore my spirit. it’s not fair, but who said it would be? why can’t i handle it? i’m nearly physically incapable of changing. i have to literally force myself to do homework and such. even things i enjoy, like playing guitar, do not seem of much interest to me. i’m waiting for a spark to ignite me instead of striking my own match. it’s getting old and i don’t know how much longer i can live like this.