plan A, plan B, no fucking plans, fuck that

I feel a bit like I'm about to lose the plot. But no. I won't. I am just not paying attention to the plot. That's all. I don't know what I'm trying to achieve. Why are we constantly trying to achieve at all, anyway? I am distracted and attracted by all these things that aren't really helping me make progress. Sometimes I feel like something is pushing on either side of my head with the intention of squashing my mind and squeezing it out of my eye balls. I'm so confused. The feeling is numbing and constant. I don't know what to do. I am innately self destructive and even knowing that my behaviour is self destructive, doesn't change my desire to continue to pursue these short lived and cheap thrills. I can't concentrate. My mind wanders to party-land. To a world where I can galavant through the forest to the soundtrack of a waterfall. What is the point of this life? Is there more? It really doesn't seem like there is much more to it.