Saw GROUPLOVE live last night and I am no longer satisfied with life. The End.
Every once in a while I get restless as all hell and it’s all I can do to not throw away everything I own and just get the hell out of wherever I am. I am so damn tired of owning things, I am so damn tired of wanting things, I am so damn tired of being tied down by things. I just want to be. I just want to be in the world and not giving a damn if anyone else approves of it (fuck you social media). I just want to be alive without the worry of caring about material possessions. I just want to love people without giving a fuck what they can or can’t give me. I want to be with people, I want to do things, without giving a damn about capturing and protecting the moment because I’m just alive and we will remember the important things anyway.
I’m just tired. I just don’t give a fuck, and I don’t think I ever really gave a fuck, and I think that bothers me. I want to give fucks about things, but I don’t. I want things as simple as they can be, and yet all I do is complicate my life. I decide I need things to be happy, because I see other people with things, and they look happy, so maybe if I had things, I’d be happy. It’s a fucking lie and I fucking believe it every time. I am already happy dammit. I don’t actually like owning things. At all. It makes me anxious - having to use, keep, clean, protect, et cetera all of this stupid shit that piles up around me. I don’t give a fuck. I wear the same two pairs of shoes, I rotate between two pairs of jeans but I really only like the one, I have about six shirts that I really like and about two cardigans and a hat and a scarf and a jacket. And I’m fine with that. So why the hell do I keep wanting to buy clothes? I only end up wearing the same things over and over again until they die and I like it that way.
I like the grooves of life. That one album that you know every single sound of, that one book that you can’t remember how many times you’ve read it, those same people that you keep coming back to, those black leather Keds that you wore until both the soles fell apart (R.I.P. babes). I like grooves. They’re comforting. They’re different than ruts, because ruts are deep, but grooves are surface marks and they’re easy to make and you can change them. I am content with little things, basic things, and I’m tired of trying to make myself believe that I want more. I don’t. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want new things all the time, I just want my fucking grooves. Wanting more makes me want to drop everything and run away, and that’s why I’m sitting here angrily typing all of this out - because I can’t stand the stuff anymore. I want out. The wanting is overwhelming and I can’t handle it. I just want to be.
Oh dear god, must I have emotions attached to every single song ever?? WHY.