I have a very good life, so I have nothing to complain about. Sometimes, I just have existential angst.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I've been angst-ridden all my life, but finally I'm in a place where things don't matter so much.
I have many moods, and there is no objective reality. And I kind of live by that.
For me, everything that you're passionate about always comes with a little pain. That's how life is, and that's how I want to live it. I don't want it to be balanced and ordinary.
When people meet me I think they're surprised to find out I'm not always angst-ridden.
I can't complain about my life. I have a really nice life. I have a great family and I live in a gorgeous part of the country.
There are days that I wake up and I complain, and when I complain I pinch myself and say, 'that's for complaining.' Not many people can do what they really like in life.
I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
Once a week, I like to slip into a deep existential depression where I lose all my sense of oneness and self-worth.
I'm not complaining about my life; every moment of it has been fantastic, and I'm so lucky.
I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy.
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