Wasting The Best Years

I've spent a night watching depressing American TV. New series of One Tree Hill, and Brothers & Sisters. It's good stuff, I like depressing television and films, and music. But what exactly does that say about me?

It's loneliness. It's an inability to let love in. It's a desire to wallow in that state. But I do wanna be happy, really I do. I just don't know how. I don't know how to be comfortable in my own skin.

It's like teenage angst. But I'm 24. Spending my youth (yeah I'm not an adult, nopes) wasting away the best years. I don't wanna wait till I'm 40 to have everything figured out. Where on earth is the point in that?

I'm totally impatient. And totally isolated. And totally aware of moseying along in a life not lived. And. And. And sifting through all my entries this year, I'm so very conscious that I'm spending all my time contemplating the path to take like a totally lost puppy dog hunting for love.