the rumours of my death were wildly exaggerated
Hey you. Whomever still follows this thing.
About to make a long stream of consciousness type post, do ignore.
I think I've forgotten the right code for a cut. Oh well.
To treat this thing as the... thing that was meant to be in the first place, a journal, and not a show-off facebook status or whatever... though it was fun, those years.
Some times, when I feel that I just don't care about anything once again and just want to hide or crawl into a hole and die, writing about it helped. So here it is, hands to keyboard.
Last months, it's like everything just gets darker and darker and more and more pointless. Like all I can do is see life pass me by while I do everyone else's work. I grew up with obligations, mostly, I'm so used to do what's needed and what no one else will do and never think of what I want that is so ingrained if anyone asked me what I wanted to do, for once, I don't think I could express it. It's why I hate speaking, lately. I hate having to think of something to say, that it's NOT what I want to really say, because all I have got to say is ugly, black and bitter, and maybe a wrong view of things, but it is my truth. At home, at work, no other aspects that matter in my life but those two, and every one around is so careless, so dumb, so gray, no one show any curiosity, any wish to do the things right, or to do them at all. And all of them act as if they're entitled to slack off, to do nothing, to make me do everything and then even look down on what I do when I know I do it to the best of my abilities, which fuck, it's way better than those around me, if I do say so myself. I care, at least, that if I'm gonna do something, it's gonna be done right. Something to prove to everyone or to me, it doesn't matter, my lack of self-esteem show in mysterious ways. Being a prefectionist is one of them. But I just can't believe we live in a world where all people are like this. And I'm the one that's mentally unstable? I'm the one that's supposedly maimed to function right? Society's so screwed if that's so. Mankind already doomed into extinction by its own hand and all the while they'll keep asking themselves what went wrong? It's like they're so blind to their own mistakes. Can anyone else see that? Things go to shit and people still think they were right all along when stuff went wrong by their own doing. It's like an endless loop, one could go mad thinking about it. Sometimes I think I have a foot already there.
And the most I see, the most I know, the angrier I get. Sometimes it's like I can't feel anything else but anger and frustration and sadness. It's all everyone and everyhing around me makes me feel. It's like there just isn't anything else to feel. So I try not to feel at all. Not to want anything at all. because I'm not gonna get it, anyway. My sense of obligation is so... stupidly, senselessly high, in my list of personality traits that given the choice, to take care of someone who I don't want to take care of but should, and go away and live my life? I'll chose the first one. I have, more than once. I even push away the good chances I get, sick of them, because even if I take them something else is bound to come down the road and stop me from chasing them, from getting what I want. All this sounds so dramatic, like I'm making myself the martyr. But maybe I am. History's full of those. People who puts the needs of others before their own. Well let me tell you something about martyrs. Being one doesn't mean they're good people. Or any kind of good at all. If people around me knew what I really think of them. Stupid, selfish, incompetent, with not a clue as to what's important. Leading meaningless lives and thinking meaningless thoughts. If I could shake them and yell in their faces "is this really ALL you want form life??? Isn't anything you think you can learn? Anything you think you can improve about yourself?" So pathetic. But more pathetic I am, for shutting up, for keeping up with the games, with the fake smiles and for taking their crap. For not just cutting lose and escape this monotone void that's become my life, to my eyes. At least, I think, I'm helping those who are not to blame. It's what really keeps me going. As long as I can help, in whatever way I can... if everything else lacks sense, at least there's some sensen in that.
Snakes, and spiders and toads out of my mouth. Not one good thing, not one gem.
What we always say, I wish I could escape, go away form everything to some place no one knows me. Forge no alliances, no acquaintances. Just me. Just me, and someplace to live, and no contact ever again with people. With the system. With the human ways. Never have to think what to say again. Never have to take obligations over what I want again. To not have to care, to not hate to care. To not hate myself for making me miserable for it. For doing it out of guilt, out of blame, out of obligation. To not have to smile if I don't mean it. To just exist in peace, to know what peace is, what harmony with what surrounds me feels like for the first time.
But I know now it's stupid to think that way, it's never gonna be real. There's always gonna be obligations, people to take care of who should take care of themselves, work to do that's not mine to do in the first place. I see myself in my 50's still here, in the same space, in the same place, having accomplished nothing. Only carrying a bigger bundle of regrets. Of missed opportunities. Of unchased dreams. Of a life not worth having been lived.
Yeah... I don't think it's helped this time. I still feel sad, ugly, empty. I stopped feeling any passion for anything that I held any passion for. Everything I used to care, I used to feel something good about. There's nothing in here, now. Nothing but fake reactions. Fake emotions. Fake it till you make it, right? I wonder if this is how psychotics feel, inside. Empty and watching people show emotions in their faces, in their words, and not feeling anything themselves. But faking it. Copying both words and gestures and trying to put those in place with the corresponding event.
So I live in my head. I live a dream life that's not mine with dream perfect people who will never be in it or know about me at all or even exist. And if doesn't make me feel better at least it makes me hurt, and that's something.
About to make a long stream of consciousness type post, do ignore.
I think I've forgotten the right code for a cut. Oh well.
To treat this thing as the... thing that was meant to be in the first place, a journal, and not a show-off facebook status or whatever... though it was fun, those years.
Some times, when I feel that I just don't care about anything once again and just want to hide or crawl into a hole and die, writing about it helped. So here it is, hands to keyboard.
Last months, it's like everything just gets darker and darker and more and more pointless. Like all I can do is see life pass me by while I do everyone else's work. I grew up with obligations, mostly, I'm so used to do what's needed and what no one else will do and never think of what I want that is so ingrained if anyone asked me what I wanted to do, for once, I don't think I could express it. It's why I hate speaking, lately. I hate having to think of something to say, that it's NOT what I want to really say, because all I have got to say is ugly, black and bitter, and maybe a wrong view of things, but it is my truth. At home, at work, no other aspects that matter in my life but those two, and every one around is so careless, so dumb, so gray, no one show any curiosity, any wish to do the things right, or to do them at all. And all of them act as if they're entitled to slack off, to do nothing, to make me do everything and then even look down on what I do when I know I do it to the best of my abilities, which fuck, it's way better than those around me, if I do say so myself. I care, at least, that if I'm gonna do something, it's gonna be done right. Something to prove to everyone or to me, it doesn't matter, my lack of self-esteem show in mysterious ways. Being a prefectionist is one of them. But I just can't believe we live in a world where all people are like this. And I'm the one that's mentally unstable? I'm the one that's supposedly maimed to function right? Society's so screwed if that's so. Mankind already doomed into extinction by its own hand and all the while they'll keep asking themselves what went wrong? It's like they're so blind to their own mistakes. Can anyone else see that? Things go to shit and people still think they were right all along when stuff went wrong by their own doing. It's like an endless loop, one could go mad thinking about it. Sometimes I think I have a foot already there.
And the most I see, the most I know, the angrier I get. Sometimes it's like I can't feel anything else but anger and frustration and sadness. It's all everyone and everyhing around me makes me feel. It's like there just isn't anything else to feel. So I try not to feel at all. Not to want anything at all. because I'm not gonna get it, anyway. My sense of obligation is so... stupidly, senselessly high, in my list of personality traits that given the choice, to take care of someone who I don't want to take care of but should, and go away and live my life? I'll chose the first one. I have, more than once. I even push away the good chances I get, sick of them, because even if I take them something else is bound to come down the road and stop me from chasing them, from getting what I want. All this sounds so dramatic, like I'm making myself the martyr. But maybe I am. History's full of those. People who puts the needs of others before their own. Well let me tell you something about martyrs. Being one doesn't mean they're good people. Or any kind of good at all. If people around me knew what I really think of them. Stupid, selfish, incompetent, with not a clue as to what's important. Leading meaningless lives and thinking meaningless thoughts. If I could shake them and yell in their faces "is this really ALL you want form life??? Isn't anything you think you can learn? Anything you think you can improve about yourself?" So pathetic. But more pathetic I am, for shutting up, for keeping up with the games, with the fake smiles and for taking their crap. For not just cutting lose and escape this monotone void that's become my life, to my eyes. At least, I think, I'm helping those who are not to blame. It's what really keeps me going. As long as I can help, in whatever way I can... if everything else lacks sense, at least there's some sensen in that.
Snakes, and spiders and toads out of my mouth. Not one good thing, not one gem.
What we always say, I wish I could escape, go away form everything to some place no one knows me. Forge no alliances, no acquaintances. Just me. Just me, and someplace to live, and no contact ever again with people. With the system. With the human ways. Never have to think what to say again. Never have to take obligations over what I want again. To not have to care, to not hate to care. To not hate myself for making me miserable for it. For doing it out of guilt, out of blame, out of obligation. To not have to smile if I don't mean it. To just exist in peace, to know what peace is, what harmony with what surrounds me feels like for the first time.
But I know now it's stupid to think that way, it's never gonna be real. There's always gonna be obligations, people to take care of who should take care of themselves, work to do that's not mine to do in the first place. I see myself in my 50's still here, in the same space, in the same place, having accomplished nothing. Only carrying a bigger bundle of regrets. Of missed opportunities. Of unchased dreams. Of a life not worth having been lived.
Yeah... I don't think it's helped this time. I still feel sad, ugly, empty. I stopped feeling any passion for anything that I held any passion for. Everything I used to care, I used to feel something good about. There's nothing in here, now. Nothing but fake reactions. Fake emotions. Fake it till you make it, right? I wonder if this is how psychotics feel, inside. Empty and watching people show emotions in their faces, in their words, and not feeling anything themselves. But faking it. Copying both words and gestures and trying to put those in place with the corresponding event.
So I live in my head. I live a dream life that's not mine with dream perfect people who will never be in it or know about me at all or even exist. And if doesn't make me feel better at least it makes me hurt, and that's something.