Lately I've felt there's a hole in my life which I can't fill. I've been going through a hard time lately and nothing seems to be getting better; the problems last year, big as they were, were easy to understand and move past. The problems this year however have been seemingly smaller, but far more complex and harder to resolve. They linger on, a taunt to me, suggesting all my maturity in the last few years has faded. I feel like a child in the face of them and like maybe I'm not ready for this life. 
 
Nothing I'm doing is filling this hole I feel. And it IS there, day in and day out. I seem mostly normal on the outside, but deep inside I can feel it, pushing on my lungs and heart, a constant frog in my throat yearning to just escape. I'm caught in this never-ceasing loop of performing mediocre activities as I drift slowly throughout my life. Is anything I do even important? I'll never accomplish everything I hope to. Life will never give me everything I desire. There is not time enough for it all. 
 
And what is this, this work, this activity, this club, this movie to watch, this game to play, this book to read, this meal to eat? Do they even mean anything at all? What is the point of them? What is the point of life? It seems the point of it is to just disappoint. To do as much as you can in the fleeting time you have but regret everything you didn't do. To feel heart ache and feel you are mature enough to handle it, only to realize you are not. To drift and slide without any knowledge of what it is you do that is of real importance. 
 
If I knew there was another life, I would be happy. If I knew there was enough time to everything I want to. If I knew it was all going to turn out okay, then I'd be happy. But it's not the way it is. And it never will be.