No mercy. Please.

I want to be profound. Let me be. In the night, clouds of thought billow through my head, scenes of peace that are never achieved out here, in waking, real, tangible life. Because it's too harsh. There's too much vulnerability. There are some good things about darkness.
If only we could dwell in dreams.
But there is no constancy. Real life asks, demands, that we find meaning. Continuity.
Sometimes, oftentimes, importanttimes, that is through people. I'm trying to come to terms with that. I think, a little too slowly. I wish I could say, "Like the turtle, the wise one, who holds the Earth, who quiets the quarrelling animals, mountains rivers and trees, who slow and steady won the race." But it's more like the frogs, who can't see the increasingly hot water up to their necks for the doom it brings them.
Should I ask for more time, or allow the tingling tension of pressure to mount to the point where it produces action? Infinite time leads to inaction: this is one thing I've learned.

Many people have indicated my inaccuracy or unwise choice of expression in saying "I am disappointed in myself." I should be stating it to acknowledge, then change it, some say, and so I think. But what may really be the case is that I say it, it is said, so let it be written, so let it be done, and it is allowed to be and to continue because I have said it. It is there, set in stone, or in paper, or in any case words. Even if they aren't communicated to anyone else, they appear in my consciousness as words. Too many of them. And it allows them to be. To grow. To fester. Saying that I'm depressed gives me an excuse. Maybe I don't want that excuse. I want to be slapped out of it. I don't want this kindness, this leniency, this "understanding" everyone has been showing. No! Stop saying "Don't be so hard on yourself," because I really truly think things have not been hard enough on me and I feel and know I have a right to say so and be right. I need a slap. I need a shove. I don't need "time" to "recuperate." (From what?) I really think that the excess of time, of leniency, has led to this condition in the first place. This sense of directionlessness, purposelessness, meaninglessness. Because no one is demanding it of me. I am given room and time. Why? What for? So what if I ask for it? Who said you should give it to me? Who said I know what's best for me?
I need need. I need necessity. That is the best motivation there is. Choice? Pah. That leaves room for doubt. No, I really need there to be pressure, stress, force, and then, it will happen. It will happen because it must. Don't tell me there's an out. I don't want to know about it. Tell me it must be done. And kick me, while you're at it. Don't show mercy. Just this once.