just dying to live

i'm always aiming to strive to really live life, but in a literal sense, it's more like i'm really just dying to live, or living to die. well, one can't really live, if they haven't died. the weight of those words can only be measured by experiencing the difference of the two extremes. otherwise, you may think you're living, when in reality, you're merely existing, aaaaand.., let's face it, the vast majority of people are just cluelessly, contently, striving to exist..., most people really think they are living, by fuken playing their acceptable, fruitless, safe parts in a emotionally failed system. yeah, a bunch of pointless, chicken shit, people, turning their insecure noses up at extremes, when really, their stupid existence is only taking up good air for me to breathe. ugh, fuken people. so god damn predictably disappointing. if i didn't have to urge for social human contact here and there, i swear, i wouldn't even bother speaking to anyone, but myself. i don't fuken know what i'm expecting, or why i'm still surprised at people's ability to manipulate my energy, or why i even hope. i don't hope anymore. hope isn't fuken a good thing. you kidding me? hope? psssh, bullshit. let me just say, hope, it isn't a fuken magical underlying force that drives the soul to push forward. hope is just a bunch of selfish fantasies that are relative to one's own perception of the word.. serving only to spawn more expectations in which to be let down by, when people and life predictably fail to comply.