12 12 / 2013
I wouldn’t say that I’m that suicidal though. I can be a bit too logical when it comes to thinking of ending my life and the fact that there are things to live for. Curious about how the world will advance. Books I haven’t read yet. Games I haven’t played yet. Things I haven’t watched. Languages I haven’t learned. Places I haven’t been to yet. And the possibility, no matter how improbable I feel it is in my head, that I will one day make a worthwhile friend with the same interests. Someone who gets me. Someone to share things with. Someone who won’t get tired of my overly obsessive habits. Because I’m always anxious, scared, in constant need of reassurance, lazy and maybe even be a fucked up person.
But even if I never find someone to be my friend. I still have things I want to do myself. Things I want to see myself. How can I want to kill myself when my world is so small and the actual world is so large, vast and infinite? I get depressed and can’t seem to get up today and that may be so even tomorrow. But I will be able to get up one day, right?
10 12 / 2013
This is the chemical formula for love:
dopamine, seratonin, oxytocin.
It can be easily manufactured in a lab, but overdosing on any of them can cause schizophrenia, extreme paranoia, and insanity.
Let that sink in.