I can't Remember if I actually wrote this...

I can’t remember if i actually wrote this...

I found this on one of my old journals. I can't remember if I actually wrote this or not, but its language is so eloquent and the clarity of its intent is so clean that I cannot help but to question whether I was the one who actually penned it...
thought 1:
the passions that drive us should be the ones we respect and admire. to feel contempt for one's own motivations is a vulgar thing. too often, it seems, i've succumbed to less than admirable compulsions driven by this furiously reprehensible machine of mine. so many things inside that i can do without- desires and urges and whatnot. so extraneous.
thought 2:
there's nothing terribly wrong with feeling lost, so long as that feeling precedes some plan on your part to actually do something about it. too often a person grows complacent with their disillusionment, perpetually wearing their "discomfort" like a favorite shirt. i can't say i'm very pleased with where my life is just now... but i can't help but look forward to where it's going.