I had a conversation with myself last night as I lay in bed. It was really... unsettling, to say the least. I don't remember the specifics of it, but I remember thinking to myself that I'm really no one to anyone. Leaving my non-existent social life aside, one of the things that came to my mind was my abilities.

In all honesty, I get very disturbed when someone tells/insiniuates to/hints to me that I'm smart/intelligent/insert-synonym, because I know that I don't know anything about anything. I make up stuff in my head, drop names, and hope the other person doesn't know anything about the topic at hand. I tell people that I want to go to grad school and study logic, when the reality is that I don't know if I can do it. And that I can barely do any logic at all. It's the same with philosophy. I tell people that I love philosophy, when the reality of it is that I just want to be differentiated from everyone else. I don't know if I love philosophy, or logic - or anything, for that matter.

I don't know what I want to do with my life. True, no one knows exactly what they want to do with their life. But that's not an excuse for me not to know.

I just can't seem to care (for lack of a better word) enough about anything that's in my life right now. I seem to react to many things with this blasé attitude... simply brushing them away with a shrug. In many ways, this has infected my social skills, for I don't seem to put in any more effort in getting to know people. It is true that sometimes I do want to get to know people, but when I think about my intentions, it's mostly to find comfort in the knowledge that I do matter (at least in some trivial manner) to someone.

Too many questions. Just too many.