No Exit

In high school my favorite subjects were French and English, and even as a pre-teen my preferred literary movements were existentialism and transcendentalism. My favorite historical time periods were the Age of Enlightenment and La Belle Epoque. 

Honey, I'm sad

In college I had a poster of Kurt Cobain on my dorm room wall that said, "I hate myself and I want to die, and then when I graduated and moved to a town so beautiful, it is literally a living Cézanne painting. 

Yeah, so I'm a walking paradox. 

I don't even care how ridiculous yet cliché that all sounds strung together, but it does explain why I often feel mostly like a tormented, fragmented and lost soul who somehow remains constantly in search of true happiness, higher truths and eternal bliss. 

My dichotomous literary proclivities and penchant for opposite end of the spectrum living conditions, led me to fully comprehend and embrace at a young and impressionable age Sartre's idea that, "L'enfer, c'est les autres," yet I still somehow remain dedicated to finding a life path where I could, "live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."

So sometimes I feel like a complete fraud. As if, just because I want to explore life's purpose, that for some reason means I'm not allowed to also sometimes feel empty, lost and completely annoyed by everyone and everything around me. 

I also have a hard time accepting the low existential moments in life where you reevaluate and question everything, because I know that it can also be lavender fields and honey.