All my entries are self-bashing because well that's pretty much how I feel currently. So if you don't like them, don't read them. I like to whine and wallow in self-pity because when I actually try to do something to get out of the depressing state, something else usually happens to come tumbling back down.
I know I have it good. Not many people have the opportunity to study at this University. Hell, not many people go to college or even finish grade school. I am lucky that I have a loving family, food to eat, and a place to live. Many people in this world don't have those things I know. But, somehow I don't know why I feel pathetic and worthless. I try really hard to think how lucky I am, but I still don't feel good about myself. It's all about being happy with how things are going and well I am not.
I'm barely passing college. I have no motivation. You would think trying to study harder to get better grades is good enough motivation, but it isn't. I really don't care anymore. I don't say things right- people interpret them wrong and naturally I get in trouble for it. I have many, many character flaws. Right now, I cannot think of anything good or something I like about myself. Let me try.
Nope. Nothing. The environment and the external stuff are good. It's the internal stuff that's fucked up. I don't know how to fix that. Unless. Somehow I can go back in time and erase the past, and redo it properly with the knowledge of what I did wrong. That is not going to happen. I just feel miserable.
This is NOT a book critic/review site. It's more of I read this book and I write how it makes me feel or what it reminds me of. I don't analyze the books thoroughly at all and I'm nowhere near qualified to do so.
Books have always been my best friends, always there when I needed them and quite dependable. I find I usually reflect my life through them. They mean a lot to me and they help me understand myself better.