Mar 27, 2006 22:47
They tell me to stop being so serious. This daily facade i put on is failing. The malice is consuming me and in every action i do, its quite evident. I have no compassion for anyone. Every morning I wake up with an empty head, dreams that dissolve with consciousness. My head is then filled with a days worth of sewage, and it doesnt exit through bodily excretment. Living a life of self-destruction. Hair broken off, body consumed by scars, hands once the untarnished hands of an artist, now monstrous and blistered. Lungs that strain for air, mind that craves nutrients. Slowing but surely, withering away to dust. I allow it. I accept the consquences. I have attempted again, and again, to be "healthy" mentally and physically, but failure is my finest skill, unrivaling any mortal. I have a doctors appointment tommarrow, my parents are concerned about my health and the giant lump that have formed at the back of my neck. I really don't want to go, I don't want to hear any bad news, im a skeletal wreck, and there is nothing positive to say about my health. I don't want to die, never am suicidal, simply unhappy, simply lack care. Hours on end pondering life, and the sheer pointlessness of everything. They say they can take away my sorrow and hate. But what if its all I have left that they haven't stolen. I proclaim them poisoned and polluted by society. I won't play the savior. Trying to help improve my friends, make them happy, make them free in mind, while i decompose before their very eyes. Who will be my savior? Who will be the one to bring me my compassion and humaneness back?
What a shame they'll say. It's to bad, she was simply, well, lost. Then turn on the TV to watch wheel of fortune and eat grease.
"what does your name mean?"
"hope, but you see, I am the antonym of that disgusting word"