You know I think we all have these thoughts sometimes, in our minds that make us truly look inside ourselves, and think. Mine are different than yours might be, and yours might be (and probably are) completely different than your friend’s.  

I think about all these people I come in contact with every day; I see them content, happy, and pleased at being mediocre: at just getting by.
They bother me. Not everyone is like that, but a lot of people are. It doesn’t make me better than them, or them worse than me, but it makes me wonder; makes me wonder how that’s okay.
How that’s normal?
I wonder how I’m asking myself that question when, in reality, I’m probably “mediocre” too.

But how.

How can they move along in their lives so easily without thinking about anything; without questioning what makes them who they are, and the circumstances that we are subjected to in today’s world, when I analyze, I run through, I overthink every single thing in life.
I think about how messed up I must be to be content to just lay here in this big cozy bed by myself while millions lay alone on the concrete every night, on the street, and women lay on mattress pads, hard floors, and in the dirt weeping.

What am I even doing?

Am I even content?
Is this even mediocre, or is it something worse?

Is this what it means to be a hypocritical, apathetic, mediocre human being?
If so, I hate it.
I want more.
I want more than just getting by and just being normal. 
I want to see things that I do, that I talk about, and that I strive for effecting people like they effect me.  

Hopefully, soon enough, that’ll happen.