A work day of writing quickly

I woke up today tired again. In a mood that is low too. I ate a lot-- the rest-- of my pizza, just because I've been feeling that it is doing me no more good. I've begun to workout again; the last two or three days I've gone in the morning. But there hangs this melancholic, depressed,confused feeling that I've grown to know so well. My hang is too long: it is bothering me; my face has broken out: that is bothering me too. Other people I am around speak to me, and I hear them, physically, but do I really hear them? Not really; do I really even hear myself? No too...

Not to sound too sad-- I am happy, and I do sometimes not have these feelings. But I have had them more times than not now to understand them as a part of me. I don't really. But I think that I should.

Life has changed since I was young. I still felt rejected, different, alone, and all that stuff. (man it sounds all so cliched...)

In my last writing, that has been now lost, I was told that I should ask what I am truly trying to ask. What I am truly trying to figure out. What I am doing? What is going on in my head? There seems to be something bothering me. Maybe it is me that is bothering me.

To be continued.... (this is all just thoughts; incomplete. But I thought I'd put them here anyway)