Does it ever end?

Picturing this scenario at this time. Picturing this life. Picturing this day. What do you dream? What becomes of those dreams? And when you reflect, how do you feel about what you've become? When you are home and all the noise goes away, what do you really feel about your accomplishments? Have you made any progress? And as your look to the future, does it look more bleak than it did in the past? Are you more tainted than yesterday? My release is in my writing. On one hand, I should be writing this for no one to read. That is the thousands of journal entries I've written in the past. A living memoir of pain is how it would read. There are good times also but they get swallowed by the bad times. I think maybe I know that in part this is just me. This is the way I react to life. This is the way I over think everything. But that's the only way I will ever do it. Seeing five steps ahead. Seeming like an asshole and really I'm just trying to make my way. Feeling uncomfortable in public. I hate lines. People stand too close. Uncomfortable laughs because I don't know how to react. Mumbling because it just isn't worth it. And somehow, this is my life. And I search for the fire that lights me up. The conversation where I can't believe that someone could be so insightful. The connection that I see in another that makes everything else disappear. I think this is the human condition. This is what we all feel in our own way. The older I get, the more I understand. No shit right? But I thought I knew it all...the kid said. You don't know shit...the man replied. I'm still having new experiences. I'm still growing. I don't want to know what the future holds because of the progression to where I am. The weight is added. It's harder to carry now. And we carry it all with us. Whether we like it or not. Each passing day, it's more difficult to get out of bed. It's more difficult to shake it off and view the world with fresh eyes. That's all for tonight.