Sunday, January 26, 2020
Life Goes On
It is difficult to continue.
A part of me believes that once I've made a choice it is determined, like building a structure. The pieces don't break or go away, you just add more and more to the existing framework. Instead I am finding large chunks of my memory twisted to fit some kind of perspective that constantly changes in ways I don't understand.
I'm not certain what I value.
I'm not sure who I am.
I assumed for a long time that I care about other people. I am convinced now the ability to look outside myself in a genuine way is almost gone. I assumed I was smart. I thought I was hardworking. I thought I was clever and creative. I thought I was above average, that I had an edge.
Not sure I believe any of that now.
No one is special. We've all heard that a hundred times. Pretty sure I didn't believe that until recently. I wonder if people really think about this though. I'm getting the sense we all think we're special, different. If we don't we still think we are, we just think also think we don't add up to others. Those feelings are not connected.
I used to think I was the same as everyone else while also feeling I was special, those contradict. It doesn't matter. Insecurities I don't think relate to this...ego driven feeling of being in a spotlight. Even when feeling like you blend in, feeling like no one sees you. That is a unique kind of attention given to yourself. A guilty pleasure worthy of admiration. Being unseen, being ugly, being forgotten.
Being different. At least you're different.
Or maybe that's just me. I doubt it. I'm certain it is not just me.
This feeling is eating me up. I don't know what I care about. The inspiration to create is gone, I don't feel I have anything worthwhile to contribute. A small part of me still writes because I expect to be heard by someone, but an equally strong part of me knows I will not be listened to, but I must keep writing to sort things out. In hopes that I might regain inspiration and faith to keep producing something.
I used to believe I acted for the sake of an action itself. But then I thought myself into a corner. A corner where things do not exist in and of themselves, they exist only because we ascribe meaning to them. In that world I cannot do anything for anythings sake alone, it must be for some other reason.
And in that world I don't know why I would do anything.
Is why I thought I felt so disheartened. But in a world where nothing means anything and we give that meaning to things. In that world I am nothing as well.
I love the idea of souls. I want inherent properties. I want to taste the heart. The essence. Of everything, of others, of me.
Those things don't exist. My meaning for continuing probably does not exist. But also, even if it does, what am I but another. What is the world if I am not here. I can find myself in books and songs and movies but that doesn't matter.
I haven't done anything, I can't bring myself to do anything. I don't know why I won't, I don't know what I am afraid of. I don't know what I'm looking for, I don't know what rules I'm following.
I know the world is absolutely absurd and none of this makes sense. I know that people with pieces of paper waive them in other people's faces and we act differently because of the symbols we ascribe to these papers and prints and people.
I feel very conscious of how many times I use the word "I" because I feel incredibly conscious of how often I am talking about myself. I am noticing that I hardly pay attention to anyone at all. That I can't say I love them when all I have in my head is ego, ego, ego. If I were to read something like I'm writing I wouldn't pin it as selfish, but it very much is.
How much ego is necessary. How can something entirely ego driven have no will? Maybe I do have a will I just don't know what it is.
I want to live without thinking about all of this, but I don't know how to stop. I don't want it to destroy me, but it is.
I know that if I have enough will I can manage to delude myself into continuing. But will for what? I am not special. I am not different. I can see others who have all the same qualities, the same thought processes, the same conclusions. I can see people who are better. I can see people who are quicker. I can see people who have more confidence than I do. I see so much that exceeds me.
I have this sense I need to get out. I know there is something I'm missing. I feel asleep. I feel pathetic. I feel as though I am on the outside.
I read something Xavier said to me, critiquing my love, my values, what I wanted, who I was.
He was right. My values were flimsy, I didn't follow them, I made a lot of mistakes and I didn't love him completely selflessly. I had two kinds of love for him, selfish and selfless. I wanted to pretend there was only one. I wanted to think I loved him only to help him but I was selfish. I just wanted him in my life.
The answer to that hurts.
This all hurts. I have done nothing. I feel so incredibly terrible. So worthless. I see no place that I can find here. I see no reason to continue. I'm trudging on but it doesn't matter.
For some reason I never worked hard at any one thing. I never found anything I loved. I found only one person who I loved.
I was stupid, I fell for stupid lies. I was too self conscious to be the kind of person who can claim ignorance. I was selfish, I was not consistent. I kept trying to protect myself at times I should have just taken hits and learned from them.
I need to quit with that. With protecting myself. I don't know what I'm saving. I've been entirely convinced there is some piece of me underneath all of this worth saving. Like there was with Xavier. But I don't think that is true.
I've been lying to myself for a long time.
It makes no different to anyone but myself what I choose to do now. I can do whatever I want now.
I am all powerful, just like anyone else, and I don't have a will to do anything with that. I can't see anything.
Sunday, February 10, 2019
Thursday, January 31, 2019
Friday, January 11, 2019
I keep getting the feeling that I'm fading.
I could crumble. Yes. The parts of me that I care about I still don't value. Don't feed. There are pieces of life somewhere that are crying that I cannot see. So I spill it in places like this where no one will see. And I expect something.
Memory.
It is too beautiful for the present. Right now we live but memory always serves us better. So maybe it's better if we just forget. But that isn't true.
Hey. Why is it. That when I sit down like this in this place. I want to write the things that will make you remember too? I don't want to feel this lonely. It bothers me. When I really think about it.
I remember you.
I don't want you to feel ashamed. Maybe it's too much to bear. For me it was unbearable. It hurt. I was in so much pain. But I loved you. I felt so much love it was overwhelming. That was unbearable.
It's strange.
I don't miss it. I don't want to forget what happened. I don't want to change things.
But when I really remember like I just did it makes me ask why all over again. It makes me realize again why it won't be so easy to find other people.
And what she said was right, you're the only person to really impress me. But then that's not true. Dorian impressed me too.
But I didn't fall in love with Dorian.
I fell in love with you.
And you went beyond impressing me you blew everything I knew about everything out of the water and took my world and crashed it on the rocks. And then when I'd sunk so far back down into the sea my eyes were open to the real world and it changed me. Because your existence widened and became my world. Everything was you. You didn't just impress me you made me only see you. And the things that I've read about that type of love didn't even compare.
I can't begin to describe what you meant to me. And when I remember, despite knowing that I still love you, I suppose remembering really shoves it in my face.
I think that in most perspectives it's definitely ridiculous that I still love you. You've probably forgotten who I am. Maybe you still vaguely know my name and that we knew each other but I am not a person to you anymore.
If I forgot who you are there would be no one to love.
But even if I forget I won't stop loving you. You will just have slipped from my memory. Become someone else in the figments that are left. Someone not you and someone who is faded enough into facts and pieces that I can detach myself from that shattered mirror and refuse to love it.
I could crumble. Yes. The parts of me that I care about I still don't value. Don't feed. There are pieces of life somewhere that are crying that I cannot see. So I spill it in places like this where no one will see. And I expect something.
Memory.
It is too beautiful for the present. Right now we live but memory always serves us better. So maybe it's better if we just forget. But that isn't true.
Hey. Why is it. That when I sit down like this in this place. I want to write the things that will make you remember too? I don't want to feel this lonely. It bothers me. When I really think about it.
I remember you.
I don't want you to feel ashamed. Maybe it's too much to bear. For me it was unbearable. It hurt. I was in so much pain. But I loved you. I felt so much love it was overwhelming. That was unbearable.
It's strange.
I don't miss it. I don't want to forget what happened. I don't want to change things.
But when I really remember like I just did it makes me ask why all over again. It makes me realize again why it won't be so easy to find other people.
And what she said was right, you're the only person to really impress me. But then that's not true. Dorian impressed me too.
But I didn't fall in love with Dorian.
I fell in love with you.
And you went beyond impressing me you blew everything I knew about everything out of the water and took my world and crashed it on the rocks. And then when I'd sunk so far back down into the sea my eyes were open to the real world and it changed me. Because your existence widened and became my world. Everything was you. You didn't just impress me you made me only see you. And the things that I've read about that type of love didn't even compare.
I can't begin to describe what you meant to me. And when I remember, despite knowing that I still love you, I suppose remembering really shoves it in my face.
I think that in most perspectives it's definitely ridiculous that I still love you. You've probably forgotten who I am. Maybe you still vaguely know my name and that we knew each other but I am not a person to you anymore.
If I forgot who you are there would be no one to love.
But even if I forget I won't stop loving you. You will just have slipped from my memory. Become someone else in the figments that are left. Someone not you and someone who is faded enough into facts and pieces that I can detach myself from that shattered mirror and refuse to love it.
Thursday, October 4, 2018
crazy it's been so long. i've always liked this place. it feels safe.
you know, my words feel safe in some places but disgusting in others. trust. it's a funny thing.
i love breathing, as a child i breathed all the time. and then when we left a kind of unease crept in and breathing was not easy anymore. i struggled more and more as i aged, coughing, wheezing, taking shallow breaths and at last learning to take small breaths every once in a while. a gust of air when all alone.
she was respiration and you were hydration.
memory serves me nothing but feeling remembers more. you always take up more space, i can't simplify you, you will not let me box you in. you expand until, once again, the moon and stars and galaxy all become a piece of your tapestry and i sense the expanse of your reality and know that you are a simple being. a complex pillow. i can't mention you simply, can i. yeah, that's my fault, or maybe it's a feeling.
you know, my words feel safe in some places but disgusting in others. trust. it's a funny thing.
i love breathing, as a child i breathed all the time. and then when we left a kind of unease crept in and breathing was not easy anymore. i struggled more and more as i aged, coughing, wheezing, taking shallow breaths and at last learning to take small breaths every once in a while. a gust of air when all alone.
she was respiration and you were hydration.
memory serves me nothing but feeling remembers more. you always take up more space, i can't simplify you, you will not let me box you in. you expand until, once again, the moon and stars and galaxy all become a piece of your tapestry and i sense the expanse of your reality and know that you are a simple being. a complex pillow. i can't mention you simply, can i. yeah, that's my fault, or maybe it's a feeling.
Wednesday, August 29, 2018
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
fuck you world!!
amirite
man i'm really tired guys, really tired. i'm doing a lot of cool things now i guess, that other people really care about and help me in life and all that shit
like going to college and getting A's and learning languages and studying history and doing math and driving and trying to get a job and practicing my instruments and learning countries and flags and meditating and drawing and talking to people and taking my pills and eating more meals and working out and playing with my dog and taking walks (to get sun) and writing regularly and putting effort into all things and mending relationships and admiring nature etc.
i keep a schedule, i make sure i do these things
so now that i'm qualified to like, talk to you, i feel like shit and i want to fucking die
why? who the fuck knows. doctors say things like "you need more serotonin take this pill or get sun" so yeah i do that now. therapist says "you think too fast and all over the place i can't keep up with you, try driving maybe independence will help". yeah so i do that now. what do i think? i give up, hell if i know.
by the way, i lose my qualifications to talk to you about this again. because my life is pretty goddamned amazing. so like, if you care about these cool life things like having parents who will let you go to college and the means to actually go to college and a good education and opportunities and people who like you and absolutely no abuse whatsoever and also a minimal amount of manipulation and no real problems at all then you can give me the finger and say "fuck you" because i probably deserve that as i have all of those lovely things.
but yeah, i make the best of those things, i am grateful for those things, i try to fill my life with all these things.
i feel shitty.
am i allowed to feel shitty?
who the fuck knows...? I don't know anymore. i mean i sincerely doubt it given there is no logical reason as to why i still feel this horribly shitty all the goddamned time. and i mean all the time again. like i was doing ok, yeah, not anymore.
but i guess it's not that bad? like it's not as bad as my friends with bad lives or people with like really really bad lives.
but it's not getting better.
everything is pretty grey and i'm guessing most people have to deal with this too. and doesn't everything just like, suck. i'm doing my shit, good job me. i 'm doing fucking amazing on paper, good job me. but i just want to fucking fade. i want to fucking die. i want to fucking leave. i hate literally all of this. i don't have any motivation for anything at all aside from "idgaf about reasons why, do it you cunt or you'll feel useless and even worse, so work you piece of shit". and that's not exactly positive.
i hate talking to other people. i hate it. i hate other people. they're fucking great and then they just fucking suck. it's like "WOW THIS IS AMAZING, OTHER PEOPLE ARE A THING" and then it's like "wow you are all so fucking disappointing, why are you all like this, am i like this too? most likely, god i hate people you all suck and then i realize i suck and then we all just suck but you guys suck worse because you don't even meet my base standard. what do you say? i don't meet yours? idgaf, suck my dick".
what? do i not have the right attitude for you?
hey, want to know something else.
i absolutely fucking adore people. i love watching them, helping them, loving them, talking to them.
i also fucking despise it.
they're interesting as hell. they're boring as hell.
want me to explain? i can't. that's the best i can do.
except i can lmao, but it takes so much effort.
i'm fucking tired, remember. i told you earlier. i'm tired as hell.
every day it's like "i don't want to do this" and every day i'm like "haha, do it" and then i do it 95% of the time and then that 5% i'm like "it's ok to take breaks" and now that i'm thinking about it, it's not ok to take breaks what the fuck. but it need to or i get exhausted right. fuck this shit. i hate living.
i'm not even that amazing. i'm so goddamned boring. i'm not that fucking smart. but i am quick. i am smart.
i'm beautiful but i'm not beautiful. people stare at me, could be for any reason. but it doesn't matter and it also does matter in some realm because i'm supposed to talk to these other people even if they don't have any impact on my self-image.
i wish i was more insecure, maybe it would give more meaning to my life. HAHA. that's a lie, i love having security.
i feel fine. and by that i mean it's all under control. and by that i mean you can't help me. and by that i mean no one can make me care. and by that i mean i am going to die this way. and by that i mean help.
help meeeeeee. but you can't. fuck you. fuck everyone. i hate everything. understand?
i am depressed. i am depressed. i am depressed. i hate everything.
it's remarkable i do anything. but i don't just do anything. i could do more. i will do more. because if i keep pressing myself maybe it'll be something. because i want to snap. i want to snap. i want to snap. i'm not pushing at all. not in comparison. this isn't enough. i want to snap. i want to not snap. i want to have so much control. i want to torture myself. i want to torture myself. i want to hurt and i want to win.
i want to win even though i have no feelings or passion or motivation or joy in my life.
i hate everything but it doesn't matter because i'm fucking amazing and i still do everything i despise. i do everything i hate. i fuck everything i don't want. i sink my teeth into the bullshit in my life.
and i don't fucking deserve sympathy lmao, because my life is wonderful and amazing and you can suck my dick and hate me because it doesn't fucking matter at all.
my life is shit, my life is god. i don't care what you think i don't care what anyone thinks, i don't care what i think, i'll keep acting and doing and you can't do shit to me because you don't matter to me and nothing else matters to me and i'm going to die.
amirite
man i'm really tired guys, really tired. i'm doing a lot of cool things now i guess, that other people really care about and help me in life and all that shit
like going to college and getting A's and learning languages and studying history and doing math and driving and trying to get a job and practicing my instruments and learning countries and flags and meditating and drawing and talking to people and taking my pills and eating more meals and working out and playing with my dog and taking walks (to get sun) and writing regularly and putting effort into all things and mending relationships and admiring nature etc.
i keep a schedule, i make sure i do these things
so now that i'm qualified to like, talk to you, i feel like shit and i want to fucking die
why? who the fuck knows. doctors say things like "you need more serotonin take this pill or get sun" so yeah i do that now. therapist says "you think too fast and all over the place i can't keep up with you, try driving maybe independence will help". yeah so i do that now. what do i think? i give up, hell if i know.
by the way, i lose my qualifications to talk to you about this again. because my life is pretty goddamned amazing. so like, if you care about these cool life things like having parents who will let you go to college and the means to actually go to college and a good education and opportunities and people who like you and absolutely no abuse whatsoever and also a minimal amount of manipulation and no real problems at all then you can give me the finger and say "fuck you" because i probably deserve that as i have all of those lovely things.
but yeah, i make the best of those things, i am grateful for those things, i try to fill my life with all these things.
i feel shitty.
am i allowed to feel shitty?
who the fuck knows...? I don't know anymore. i mean i sincerely doubt it given there is no logical reason as to why i still feel this horribly shitty all the goddamned time. and i mean all the time again. like i was doing ok, yeah, not anymore.
but i guess it's not that bad? like it's not as bad as my friends with bad lives or people with like really really bad lives.
but it's not getting better.
everything is pretty grey and i'm guessing most people have to deal with this too. and doesn't everything just like, suck. i'm doing my shit, good job me. i 'm doing fucking amazing on paper, good job me. but i just want to fucking fade. i want to fucking die. i want to fucking leave. i hate literally all of this. i don't have any motivation for anything at all aside from "idgaf about reasons why, do it you cunt or you'll feel useless and even worse, so work you piece of shit". and that's not exactly positive.
i hate talking to other people. i hate it. i hate other people. they're fucking great and then they just fucking suck. it's like "WOW THIS IS AMAZING, OTHER PEOPLE ARE A THING" and then it's like "wow you are all so fucking disappointing, why are you all like this, am i like this too? most likely, god i hate people you all suck and then i realize i suck and then we all just suck but you guys suck worse because you don't even meet my base standard. what do you say? i don't meet yours? idgaf, suck my dick".
what? do i not have the right attitude for you?
hey, want to know something else.
i absolutely fucking adore people. i love watching them, helping them, loving them, talking to them.
i also fucking despise it.
they're interesting as hell. they're boring as hell.
want me to explain? i can't. that's the best i can do.
except i can lmao, but it takes so much effort.
i'm fucking tired, remember. i told you earlier. i'm tired as hell.
every day it's like "i don't want to do this" and every day i'm like "haha, do it" and then i do it 95% of the time and then that 5% i'm like "it's ok to take breaks" and now that i'm thinking about it, it's not ok to take breaks what the fuck. but it need to or i get exhausted right. fuck this shit. i hate living.
i'm not even that amazing. i'm so goddamned boring. i'm not that fucking smart. but i am quick. i am smart.
i'm beautiful but i'm not beautiful. people stare at me, could be for any reason. but it doesn't matter and it also does matter in some realm because i'm supposed to talk to these other people even if they don't have any impact on my self-image.
i wish i was more insecure, maybe it would give more meaning to my life. HAHA. that's a lie, i love having security.
i feel fine. and by that i mean it's all under control. and by that i mean you can't help me. and by that i mean no one can make me care. and by that i mean i am going to die this way. and by that i mean help.
help meeeeeee. but you can't. fuck you. fuck everyone. i hate everything. understand?
i am depressed. i am depressed. i am depressed. i hate everything.
it's remarkable i do anything. but i don't just do anything. i could do more. i will do more. because if i keep pressing myself maybe it'll be something. because i want to snap. i want to snap. i want to snap. i'm not pushing at all. not in comparison. this isn't enough. i want to snap. i want to not snap. i want to have so much control. i want to torture myself. i want to torture myself. i want to hurt and i want to win.
i want to win even though i have no feelings or passion or motivation or joy in my life.
i hate everything but it doesn't matter because i'm fucking amazing and i still do everything i despise. i do everything i hate. i fuck everything i don't want. i sink my teeth into the bullshit in my life.
and i don't fucking deserve sympathy lmao, because my life is wonderful and amazing and you can suck my dick and hate me because it doesn't fucking matter at all.
my life is shit, my life is god. i don't care what you think i don't care what anyone thinks, i don't care what i think, i'll keep acting and doing and you can't do shit to me because you don't matter to me and nothing else matters to me and i'm going to die.
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