journal stuff

This may be the first time in my life where I am so worn down that nothing matters anymore. Not in a negative or positive way per say, but it is certainly a depressing realization. How is this not negative you ask? Because I am so happy that it doesn't really matter to me anymore. I am so glad to be through with care. The bad cares are what I refer to of course; overly self-conscious, guilt, greed, I am virtually free of any negative desires. I do not care if I live or die, for the lack of pain death would mean seems to equal the disappointment that I would feel for dying with an unfulfilled life. Thus life or death are neither friend nor foe, as they occasional switch roles according to the amount of pain I am in.
"Oh god, how sweet is the breath of life! Nothing could be filled with such wonder, ecstasy, and adventure! Death, you inescapable thief, all you do is take our Eutopia away."
To a day when everything sucks and I can feel nothing because of a personal betrayal and/or recurring sickness in my gut.
"Please let me die, that I may let go of this evanescent tease and attain happiness. The cruel pains of existence serve a sick absurdity that I wish to be no part of."
I grow tired of the role change, life and death are too different of animals to be swapped around regularly. Thus, being through with this care is a relief in very few, but important ways. It certainly clears the mind, and gives rise to freedom of oneself from obligations. It can be destructive to those things that you have worked so hard for though, so I am invoking reason to certain things during this period, so that when care returns I will not be screwed.
Hopefully, I can retain something from this period and grow permanently. For I am so sick and tired of going over and over the same pains for no reason. One can only grow so much at a time, and after even after one of those rare occasions where manages to grow and live perfectly, life still causes pain. Pain is not always purposeful, we like to pair pain and purpose because it gives us a reason to continue, but there is not always a reason to continue, and there is not always a reason for pain.
I am of the belief that the pain we cause ourselves is very important towards spiritual growth, but the excessive pain that this world causes often times renders us zombies. It renders us undead, with no freewill left, only the instincts for emotional and physical survival. It is during this period that there is no growth, and thus pain is counter productive to our spirit, to life. This helps give me purpose on days when I do care, because I am determined to help rid our world of excessive pain.
For the time being, I am completely happy that nothing really matters. I do hope that one day the good things will matter again, when I am not rendered anhedonic by illness and emotional atrophy, but as anyone can see nothing really matters, nothing really matters to me.
Anywhere the wind blows...