A Fairly Unorganized Collection of Thoughts on Dissatisfaction.

Fine weather makes me a bit squirrelly, and really has yet only to enhance my feeling of wanting to get out and away. It has magnified my dissatisfaction to a seemingly unreasonable amount.

"Do you always look this dissatisfied?"
Sure, the questioner was under the influence of drink and sleep deprivation, and yet it was hit perfectly.
I personally hope that I do not, purely because I do not want to give people the impression that I don't enjoy the time spent with them; yet at the same time I can't see why I wouldn't look "this dissatisfied" all the time.
I am "this dissatisfied" all the time.

But what's to be done? What can really be changed? I've tried and I've thought about it and the only solution that I can see is dropping everything and starting over again somewhere new. Somewhere where minimal people know me or my name.
I don't want these papers: they mean nothing.
I don't want this life: it means nothing.
I am doing absolutely nothing worthwhile.
I do not care. And nobody else cares.

This is not a cry for help, nor a cry for somebody to care.
This is written in hopes that once the thoughts are no longer merely internal, I may find solutions and direction. It maybe and perhaps should be ignored and left unread by everyone save myself.

I know what I want, I just don't know how to get it. And when I do have an idea of how to get it, there's always someone else standing in the way.
(destroy to create, destroy to create)