Quotes About Frustration

I don't like this world. I definitely do not like it. The society in which I live disgusts me; advertising sickens me; computers make me puke. My entire work as a computer expert consists of adding to the data, the cross-referencing, the criteria of rational decision-making. It has no meaning. To tell the truth, it is even negative up to a point; a useless encumbering of the neurons. This world has need of many things, bar more information.

todo el mundo tiene forzosamente la impresión, en un momento u otro de su vida, de ser un fracasado. Ahí

Siento que se están rompiendo cosas dentro de mí, como paredes de cristal que estallan. Ando como un león enjaulado, rabioso; necesito actuar, pero no puedo hacer nada, porque todas las tentativas me parecen condenadas al fracaso de antemano. Fracaso, fracaso por todas partes. Sólo el suicidio resplandece en lo alto, inaccesible. A medianoche, siento una especie de sorda alteración; se produce algo interno y doloroso. Ya no entiendo nada

Bruno ochi È™i arunc? din toate puterile. Piatra se sf?râm? de zid, ratând de puÈ›in capul reptilei. — ?erpii au locul lor în natur?..., observ? Hipiotul-C?runt cu o anume severitate. — Natura, ah! M? È™terg la cur cu ea, b?trâne! M? cac în freza ei! Bruno era din nou furios. — Natur? de c?cat... M? fut în ea de natur?!... morm?i el furios timp de vreo câteva minute.

Il se sentait comme une boîte de bière écrasée sous les pieds d'un hooligan britannique, ou comme un beefsteak abandonné dans le compartiment légumes d'un réfrigérateur bas de gamme, enfin il ne se sentait pas très bien.

Human reality, he was beginning to realize, was a series of disappointments, bitterness and pain.

Por otra parte es verdad, tengo cita con el psiquiatra, pero todavía me quedan más de tres horas por delante. Las paso en un restaurante de comida rápida, haciendo pedacitos el embalaje de cartón de la hamburguesa. Sin verdadero método, así que el resultado es decepcionante. Un puro y simple destrozo.

Je suis bien dégoûté de ma vie, bien las de moi, mais de là à mener une autre existence il y a loin !

Life is painful and disappointing. It is useless, therefore, to write new realistic novels. We generally know where we stand in relation to reality and don't care to know any more.

Jane had a mental block the size of the polar ice cap when it came to Andy's job. He said IT programming was no harder than learning a language but she'd never been able to do that either. As long as their computer at home let her occasionally shop on eBay she was fine not knowing why.

And we'd look at each other the way you do when you see someone on the street you think you recognize, but not quite. Someone you wish with all your heart were there but who is actually just a stranger. And you feel a kind of deep longing that hurts like a huge gash and your inability to fix it leaves you frustrated and angry and bone-deep lonely.

How do you keep doing that, Ford Winter? she wanted to ask. Have me swallowing back a lump in my throat one minute... And rolling my eyes the next.

Compassion struggled in Maud; uselessly, like a puppy in a sack.

Another girl who wanted too much too desperately, and knew neither how to get it nor how to make it stop.

it doesn't make sense." He is frustrated. "It doesn't have to," I tell him. "You must simply learn the rules and obey." "Is that what liberty means?" he asks earnestly. The three of us are silent. "No," I say. "That is what tyranny means.

I'm twenty-eight years old and I hate my life. I never have the time or the energy to work out how to change it. On Sundays I trail round a museum to keep warm, or lose myself in a library book, or fiddle with the wireless. But Monday's already looming. And always I've got this panicky feeling inside, because I know I'm getting nowhere, just keeping myself alive. Tacked

Jerk? Is that the best you've got? How disappointing.

Did you follow me here?" "Something like that." I let out a frustrated groan. "Can't anyone just talk to me straight? Why is everyone avoiding my damn questions tonight?" Bishop's brows went up. "Okay, fine. Yes, I followed you here. Better?" "Yes. Stalkery, but better." "I'm not stalking you." "Spoken like a true stalker

I try to be confident, always have, but despite my best efforts, sometimes I come off like I'm a total..." "Dick?" I finished for him. "I'm just randomly picking words out of the air. Tell me if you think I'm close.

rolled my eyes, shook my head and whispered, "Jesus, be a strait jacket.

She wouldn't have sex with me in public bathrooms. Little things like this haunted me. I was only twenty-five.

It felt as if things were literally slipping through my fingers. Things were just streaming away from me. I lost my sense of humor. I'm still looking for that.

I have to admit I was annoyed. Not physically annoyed, but inside annoyed. That helpless feeling you have when you know you should not be angry because you have to consider how other people are feeling or accept them for what they are, and that it is not your place to say anything. But annoyed because you have not been considered in the whole picture, you are there and that is that. Apologies begin to mean nothing at that point and frustration takes over.

And so the months and the years have gone by, but little has turned out well for me. Each new year in turn has failed to bring happiness. Indeed, as I think of the unsatisfying events I have recorded here, I wonder whether I have been describing anything of substance. Call it, this journal of mine, a shimmering of the summer sky.