Untitled
*edit* I popped it into word and did a full spell check, to make it easier on the eyes.
I was sitting there trying to decide what to put as the subject for this blog, but I couldn’t bring one to mind because I really don’t know what I am going to say. Even though I cant label what I am going to put down into this text box, I know there’s some shit I just need to say, some shit I just cant keep to myself to worry and let stew in my head.
You know the shit I'm talking about right, the kind of bullshit that is tossed our way every time we may start to let our guard down to it? I mean the last week or so, a little more, I've felt better then I have in quite a while. Juxtaposed with life, I don’t think these moments of happiness, sadness, and neutrality are much longer or shorter lived then a lifetime in eternity. That’s not saying much, since the very existence of humanity is a spec on the geological records of our planet, whereas in the records of humanity, our generation is just a spec. Even infinitely smaller so is our own lives in the scheme of our generation. So why am I bitching about how insignificant we all are? Because I feel like I gain a little perspective every time I think back over these things, and its hard for me to keep these thoughts organized without typing them out, giving them order, letting them become a structure to be glanced at from afar, and assumed to have substance. The final installment of the ladder would be the length of my life so far compared to the amount left to be seen and perhaps even lived. After looking back over all of that, I still cant seem to shake the affliction every little dip and dive I seem to encounter on the up and down of life. Life, of course referring to the small amount I have come through and am going through so far.
Now that I got that out of the way, the broad generalizations that I must seem to place at the beginning of every entry I type, as to maybe claim some credibility for myself. Maybe it is to try and prove that I'm deep, or to try and give off a sense of brilliance, or even simply a sense of sanity. I can move on to the slightly more meaningful and personal thoughts that I think that this is designed for. No matter how many good memories I have, I can still turn them against myself, no matter how happy I think I was yesterday, I can still mirror it with sadness today. Why do I have to do this to myself? I can almost feel the pitiful ness of the very words I type this very second as the only thing I have succeeded in saying so far in this blog is a long drawn out, indirect way to say: I am emo.
I have been telling myself I have lost the faith that I had been foolishly placing in the compassion of others, in relationships, in love, in females, in myself. I don’t see why I deserve the events that seem to be coming my way in wake of my first, and most recent... did I mention only relationship so far? As shell-shocked as it left me when the news was broken, I was at a lack for words, and when I tried to say something to try and maybe save, or to even understand, to get some kind of idea why this had to happen so suddenly. I could not find those words, they were there, they existed in my feelings, stronger then anything I even thought I was capable of, but I could not draw them out for her. I can only assume that the same has happened to her, because the lack of reason she had given me would only leave me to think that she was at a loss of words for her own doing. I would like to say that I don’t question it any more, but even the things she said to make me go away, to break our chain, seemed to be lies.
As of today, approximately 4 months after she left me, we have not spoken much to any amount that could be considered a friendly amount. It just hurts me more and more when I think about the beautiful times, the great jokes, the laughs and the cries. No matter how high the ups and downs went it was OK because I had someone there for me, someone I knew was there for me. I was wrong, she wasn’t. Recently I have these vibes that she doesn’t even wish to be my friend anymore, like she said she very much wanted to, the day she broke my heart. That’s why I seem to find flaws in the validity of what she said even in the final moments of our relation. How could you still want to be my friend when you don’t want to talk to me anymore, you don’t want to hang out anymore, you erase all mentioning of me, you abandon all the little things that used to keep the smiles on our faces? These questions I wouldn’t have the heart to ask to her, partly because I know the answer would not be in my favor, simply end up hurting me more, and partly because I am a coward and am hesitant to try and push for us to be friends again after all this. I would so much like to see more effort from her side, but I cant ask any more of her, I cannot ask any more of anything from her because that is what she brought upon us when she said those last words.
Alas, another knife in my side. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am some kind of lowly stalker, or eavesdropper because I can read on a public Internet page. I just tonight found out that Sabrina is going to prom this year (by way of being asked by a senior). Hah, that was the first time in this whole thing I typed her name. Somehow, the name in itself has come to hurt me in some way; I see it anywhere and I just stop, my eyes become blank as my stare burns through anything in front of me. The thoughts pour into my head for a few blistering moments, then its *pop* back to reality. Anyway, I lost it on a tangent there. I know that I shouldn’t see this as so much of a low blow, but I cant help how I think and feel. That woman, more important to me than any in the world, scorns me from her side, erases the records of our togetherness, shuns away from communication with me, then to top it off (and in no way is this her fault) finds someone to replace me as her buddy... I don’t know if the title of "movie buddy" is now his, but at least the meager title of "close friend" has been stripped of my ranks.
I cant say I blame either of them, even though the blood that rages through my head and fingers while I think about it, pushes me closer to violence, to irrationality. I am going to take it with stride, because I think through all my constant dredging in my own mind, I am finally starting to see more clear, and to make more sense of these things that plague me.
Lets face the harsh reality: I am a failure at all things having to do with sports, physical activity, coordination, skill, education, school, effort, intelligence, worth. Worth pretty much covers nearly everything that matters (quite literally in the sense of the word right?). Given my past, that terrible upbringing from which I lost the only woman that ever really loved me, though it was paternally. I never even met the bastard of a father that I obviously must have somewhere in my past. It’s not a lie for me to say that every aspect of my life is either going downhill, or is already at the bare bottom. I can’t say I know how to deal with this either. I haven’t a clue what I am supposed to do, that is why I don’t know how I can save myself. The only thing that seems can save me is going away.
I’m sure you know what I mean by the term "going away". The significance of every single journal entry on this blog being about depression is that this is all my life has left to offer for me. I can’t just keep sitting here as it all comes, it is OVERcoming me. I don’t want to throw away this gift that I have been given by the greatest of all gods, coincidence. But I’m afraid my naivety is forcing me to seek that route, it’s the only one I can find in the labyrinth. The way I know I am serious this time is that instead of saying these things because of some recent trauma, causing overwhelming despair. I think of it all hours of the day, even when happy. I simply know that I have a slowly descending number over my head, the number counting my days down to the last.
I have put a point of no return on the calendar. Next year, once I get to see all my friends graduate (without me of course) and I will have to say goodbye to many of them (probably forever in most cases) my life is going to come to a point where I have to take everything I’ve gained, everything I’ve accumulated over these last very short and blissful years, and start something. Start life. I am not stupid, and I can see that on the road I am now, the only thing waiting for me in the months of my 18th birthday is somewhat that of what I like to call "Closure". This is no lie, and I tell it to you with a neutral happiness in my heart. Did you ever wonder what you would think, how you would act, what you would say if you KNEW you were going to die within a certain period of time, excluding the unforeseeable and inevitable death that awaits us all? I know what it feels like now, and I will simply say that fear is not something that is weighing me down.
I am a marked man; my day of no return is June 27th 2007. This next year I am hoping is going the be the best of my life, it will be such a great gift if it is, to have the best year of my very short and meager life be my last. I don’t see this plan of action as a death sentence, merely a Coup de Gras. Until this time will come, let us forget about. The only one who needs to remember is me, and I know this time I will NOT let it slip away. Lets make this next year the greatest we could have ever imagined, at least for me. I love you all, good night.
<3<3<3
lessthanthrees
I was sitting there trying to decide what to put as the subject for this blog, but I couldn’t bring one to mind because I really don’t know what I am going to say. Even though I cant label what I am going to put down into this text box, I know there’s some shit I just need to say, some shit I just cant keep to myself to worry and let stew in my head.
You know the shit I'm talking about right, the kind of bullshit that is tossed our way every time we may start to let our guard down to it? I mean the last week or so, a little more, I've felt better then I have in quite a while. Juxtaposed with life, I don’t think these moments of happiness, sadness, and neutrality are much longer or shorter lived then a lifetime in eternity. That’s not saying much, since the very existence of humanity is a spec on the geological records of our planet, whereas in the records of humanity, our generation is just a spec. Even infinitely smaller so is our own lives in the scheme of our generation. So why am I bitching about how insignificant we all are? Because I feel like I gain a little perspective every time I think back over these things, and its hard for me to keep these thoughts organized without typing them out, giving them order, letting them become a structure to be glanced at from afar, and assumed to have substance. The final installment of the ladder would be the length of my life so far compared to the amount left to be seen and perhaps even lived. After looking back over all of that, I still cant seem to shake the affliction every little dip and dive I seem to encounter on the up and down of life. Life, of course referring to the small amount I have come through and am going through so far.
Now that I got that out of the way, the broad generalizations that I must seem to place at the beginning of every entry I type, as to maybe claim some credibility for myself. Maybe it is to try and prove that I'm deep, or to try and give off a sense of brilliance, or even simply a sense of sanity. I can move on to the slightly more meaningful and personal thoughts that I think that this is designed for. No matter how many good memories I have, I can still turn them against myself, no matter how happy I think I was yesterday, I can still mirror it with sadness today. Why do I have to do this to myself? I can almost feel the pitiful ness of the very words I type this very second as the only thing I have succeeded in saying so far in this blog is a long drawn out, indirect way to say: I am emo.
I have been telling myself I have lost the faith that I had been foolishly placing in the compassion of others, in relationships, in love, in females, in myself. I don’t see why I deserve the events that seem to be coming my way in wake of my first, and most recent... did I mention only relationship so far? As shell-shocked as it left me when the news was broken, I was at a lack for words, and when I tried to say something to try and maybe save, or to even understand, to get some kind of idea why this had to happen so suddenly. I could not find those words, they were there, they existed in my feelings, stronger then anything I even thought I was capable of, but I could not draw them out for her. I can only assume that the same has happened to her, because the lack of reason she had given me would only leave me to think that she was at a loss of words for her own doing. I would like to say that I don’t question it any more, but even the things she said to make me go away, to break our chain, seemed to be lies.
As of today, approximately 4 months after she left me, we have not spoken much to any amount that could be considered a friendly amount. It just hurts me more and more when I think about the beautiful times, the great jokes, the laughs and the cries. No matter how high the ups and downs went it was OK because I had someone there for me, someone I knew was there for me. I was wrong, she wasn’t. Recently I have these vibes that she doesn’t even wish to be my friend anymore, like she said she very much wanted to, the day she broke my heart. That’s why I seem to find flaws in the validity of what she said even in the final moments of our relation. How could you still want to be my friend when you don’t want to talk to me anymore, you don’t want to hang out anymore, you erase all mentioning of me, you abandon all the little things that used to keep the smiles on our faces? These questions I wouldn’t have the heart to ask to her, partly because I know the answer would not be in my favor, simply end up hurting me more, and partly because I am a coward and am hesitant to try and push for us to be friends again after all this. I would so much like to see more effort from her side, but I cant ask any more of her, I cannot ask any more of anything from her because that is what she brought upon us when she said those last words.
Alas, another knife in my side. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I am some kind of lowly stalker, or eavesdropper because I can read on a public Internet page. I just tonight found out that Sabrina is going to prom this year (by way of being asked by a senior). Hah, that was the first time in this whole thing I typed her name. Somehow, the name in itself has come to hurt me in some way; I see it anywhere and I just stop, my eyes become blank as my stare burns through anything in front of me. The thoughts pour into my head for a few blistering moments, then its *pop* back to reality. Anyway, I lost it on a tangent there. I know that I shouldn’t see this as so much of a low blow, but I cant help how I think and feel. That woman, more important to me than any in the world, scorns me from her side, erases the records of our togetherness, shuns away from communication with me, then to top it off (and in no way is this her fault) finds someone to replace me as her buddy... I don’t know if the title of "movie buddy" is now his, but at least the meager title of "close friend" has been stripped of my ranks.
I cant say I blame either of them, even though the blood that rages through my head and fingers while I think about it, pushes me closer to violence, to irrationality. I am going to take it with stride, because I think through all my constant dredging in my own mind, I am finally starting to see more clear, and to make more sense of these things that plague me.
Lets face the harsh reality: I am a failure at all things having to do with sports, physical activity, coordination, skill, education, school, effort, intelligence, worth. Worth pretty much covers nearly everything that matters (quite literally in the sense of the word right?). Given my past, that terrible upbringing from which I lost the only woman that ever really loved me, though it was paternally. I never even met the bastard of a father that I obviously must have somewhere in my past. It’s not a lie for me to say that every aspect of my life is either going downhill, or is already at the bare bottom. I can’t say I know how to deal with this either. I haven’t a clue what I am supposed to do, that is why I don’t know how I can save myself. The only thing that seems can save me is going away.
I’m sure you know what I mean by the term "going away". The significance of every single journal entry on this blog being about depression is that this is all my life has left to offer for me. I can’t just keep sitting here as it all comes, it is OVERcoming me. I don’t want to throw away this gift that I have been given by the greatest of all gods, coincidence. But I’m afraid my naivety is forcing me to seek that route, it’s the only one I can find in the labyrinth. The way I know I am serious this time is that instead of saying these things because of some recent trauma, causing overwhelming despair. I think of it all hours of the day, even when happy. I simply know that I have a slowly descending number over my head, the number counting my days down to the last.
I have put a point of no return on the calendar. Next year, once I get to see all my friends graduate (without me of course) and I will have to say goodbye to many of them (probably forever in most cases) my life is going to come to a point where I have to take everything I’ve gained, everything I’ve accumulated over these last very short and blissful years, and start something. Start life. I am not stupid, and I can see that on the road I am now, the only thing waiting for me in the months of my 18th birthday is somewhat that of what I like to call "Closure". This is no lie, and I tell it to you with a neutral happiness in my heart. Did you ever wonder what you would think, how you would act, what you would say if you KNEW you were going to die within a certain period of time, excluding the unforeseeable and inevitable death that awaits us all? I know what it feels like now, and I will simply say that fear is not something that is weighing me down.
I am a marked man; my day of no return is June 27th 2007. This next year I am hoping is going the be the best of my life, it will be such a great gift if it is, to have the best year of my very short and meager life be my last. I don’t see this plan of action as a death sentence, merely a Coup de Gras. Until this time will come, let us forget about. The only one who needs to remember is me, and I know this time I will NOT let it slip away. Lets make this next year the greatest we could have ever imagined, at least for me. I love you all, good night.
<3<3<3
lessthanthrees