a story in progress

I'm feeling so lost right now. Of course not the direction-wise of being lost. Rather I'm unsure what to do with my life right now. Not that I have much going on. Just somehow, I really hate my present state of being. Wandering around so aimlessly. Losing a purpose in life. Not that I have one in the first place. But I like to think that for once I imagined up a purpose - my very own raison d'être.

Even if it's a mean for me to keep deceiving myself - just so I can keep on walking along this path. That would be a great feeling. A feeling that I longed for right now. Is life suppose to be a personification of irony? Or of contradictions and oxymoron's? I'm really exhausted.

I know what is there left to be done or rather what is there to start with. But lacking the willpower to do so. It really ticks me off. Again, I'm left to remind myself how hopeless I can be. I'm in need of that drive. That drive to move along regardless of the condition. Yet again, I have doubts that such drive ever exist in the world to begin with. The voice of rational is starting to lose out. Or has it already begun?

I really wana line the pieces up together. But it's always easier to put up a facade for everyone to see. But how can one ever put a facade for one to see? Everything lies bare for one to see. Barren as always. Every single aspect of life is open for viewing by him and him alone. How long can one put up with that I wonder?