Never myself...
Saw Secret Window today, saw the ending coming, but I'm weird like that. I've thought the same thing about myself. Don't want to ruin the movie, but let's just say the idea is very, very interesting to me. Especially considering my impending madness.
Words...constantly, words keep spinning in my head. Doubts. I'm tired of it. Why do I have to undermine myself? Why can't I just say 'Fuck the world and what it thinks of me!' Why do I have to care? It's too damn tiring...
I've had ideas, plenty of them, but I'm so tired. Why do I have to be tired? Am I just lazy? Do I really need so much validation when I write?
I think I might write a book on OCD someday...Maybe the book can be as garbled, messy, and fucking twisted as my thoughts. Would anyone understand it? Would it even matter if they did? No one can get close enough. No one can truly understand. I see myself having a child with the same problems as me and just yelling at them. "STOP FUCKING TOUCHING AND CLEANING THINGS! STOP OBSESSING! JUST FORGET ABOUT IT! JUST...BE...NORMAL!" I'll forget how hard it was, how different it could be for someone else. I don't want to forget, but it's ineveitable, really. If I want to get better...I guess...
You'll never fully understand another person, and yet, we ceaselessy try. We need that closeness, but that sheer proximity can bring so much pain. We are social creatures, that is fine, but we need to learn to help ourselves. But, once you believe you've learned how to help yourself, how do you stop from isolating yourself? To stop yourself from drowning out everyone else's pain?
Ah...That felt pretty good. Well, this has only been a fraction of my muddled thoughts in the past month. If you find this exhausting, you should hear the whole story...I don't think I wrote this for pity or attention...I don't want comfort. Opinions wouldn't hurt, of course, but it's still not the point.
I guess, I wrote this for myself...
And that is a great accomplishment for me.
Words...constantly, words keep spinning in my head. Doubts. I'm tired of it. Why do I have to undermine myself? Why can't I just say 'Fuck the world and what it thinks of me!' Why do I have to care? It's too damn tiring...
I've had ideas, plenty of them, but I'm so tired. Why do I have to be tired? Am I just lazy? Do I really need so much validation when I write?
I think I might write a book on OCD someday...Maybe the book can be as garbled, messy, and fucking twisted as my thoughts. Would anyone understand it? Would it even matter if they did? No one can get close enough. No one can truly understand. I see myself having a child with the same problems as me and just yelling at them. "STOP FUCKING TOUCHING AND CLEANING THINGS! STOP OBSESSING! JUST FORGET ABOUT IT! JUST...BE...NORMAL!" I'll forget how hard it was, how different it could be for someone else. I don't want to forget, but it's ineveitable, really. If I want to get better...I guess...
You'll never fully understand another person, and yet, we ceaselessy try. We need that closeness, but that sheer proximity can bring so much pain. We are social creatures, that is fine, but we need to learn to help ourselves. But, once you believe you've learned how to help yourself, how do you stop from isolating yourself? To stop yourself from drowning out everyone else's pain?
Ah...That felt pretty good. Well, this has only been a fraction of my muddled thoughts in the past month. If you find this exhausting, you should hear the whole story...I don't think I wrote this for pity or attention...I don't want comfort. Opinions wouldn't hurt, of course, but it's still not the point.
I guess, I wrote this for myself...
And that is a great accomplishment for me.