Throughout my day, though, I couldn't help but notice that I felt like I was walking through water or swimming in air. Perhaps that's because of my confusion between reality and dreams, but sometimes the days just don't seem real. Or my head was just too fuzzy. Regardless, it's an odd feeling that I seem to experience every day, and I'm idly wondering when I'll finally wake up. Or do I even want to? I'm torn between believing life is a brutal existence and utterly pointless and believing life should be valued and enjoyed for its shortness.
What is easier: accepting misery or wishing for something you'll never have?
And here today I was calling someone a Debby Downer at work...he claimed he was just being realistic (which is always what I say after someone accuses me of being a pessimist). I'm such a damn hypocrite. At least I know it, I suppose.