(no subject)
I can't stop crying, ever. When it's not one thing, it's something else, and something else and on and on and on and angrier and angrier and ANGRIER!
SO ANGRY! Angry at you at me at the stupid little yappity dogs down the street from me, little rats on leashes.
HE NEVER GIVES ANYTHING TO ME! Nothing, the smiles look down on me and laughs at me and scorns me and I would give anything to tear them off with my bloody claws, or to open myself, to scar my insides with my nails, anything to stop the laughter, to give my anger. I want to break things, to scatter myself, to be loved by those who SHOULD LOVE ME! But how difficult I make it, I make it so difficult, I can't even love myself and yet I want others to. Because I can't. I am so so so angry with myself, how could I do this!? I want someone to beat me. But probably just to have someone else hold me afterwards. I disgust myself. How can I stop being so angry? But I feel that if I'm not angry, that it never really goes away, it just stays there and watches for another time when it can unleash itself, on others and myself. And then the tears can come, tears of frustration and anger and self-loathing. I am scratching myself with my nails, I am wishing I could tear myself to pieces, and, like Osiris, be put back together, but never find this piece of me which cannot love myself, which must hate and despise others for seeing what I cannot and hating it.
Don't you even DARE to analyze me, to tell me what I should do, how I should act or behave, because I must discover things on my own. Don't you play god with me you supercilious puffed-up "expert" on life. I'll tear your eyes out. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll cry about it afterwards and then tear my own out.
SO ANGRY! Angry at you at me at the stupid little yappity dogs down the street from me, little rats on leashes.
HE NEVER GIVES ANYTHING TO ME! Nothing, the smiles look down on me and laughs at me and scorns me and I would give anything to tear them off with my bloody claws, or to open myself, to scar my insides with my nails, anything to stop the laughter, to give my anger. I want to break things, to scatter myself, to be loved by those who SHOULD LOVE ME! But how difficult I make it, I make it so difficult, I can't even love myself and yet I want others to. Because I can't. I am so so so angry with myself, how could I do this!? I want someone to beat me. But probably just to have someone else hold me afterwards. I disgust myself. How can I stop being so angry? But I feel that if I'm not angry, that it never really goes away, it just stays there and watches for another time when it can unleash itself, on others and myself. And then the tears can come, tears of frustration and anger and self-loathing. I am scratching myself with my nails, I am wishing I could tear myself to pieces, and, like Osiris, be put back together, but never find this piece of me which cannot love myself, which must hate and despise others for seeing what I cannot and hating it.
Don't you even DARE to analyze me, to tell me what I should do, how I should act or behave, because I must discover things on my own. Don't you play god with me you supercilious puffed-up "expert" on life. I'll tear your eyes out. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll cry about it afterwards and then tear my own out.