(no subject)
Lexine wrote an entry in her diary that made me cry. I shouldn't have said what I did about Lisa - regardless of my feelings during that time, it was disrespectful of me and if I'd been thinking about the pain I was causing I wouldn't have said it. I guess that's why I'm an asshole. I wasn't thinking. I spent so much fucking time telling myself that it wasn't fair that people were fuckers to me because I was with Melissa. I spent so much time preaching about how if Melissa wasn't invited to an event, then I wasn't going because she was a part of me. And now I've become the asshole I was fighting. Go me.
And now... now that I am away from everything, I am thinking more than I think I can handle. My brain is like a tornado, ripping through everything that I thought made sense. Everything I knew, everything I thought I had figured out is now a pile of ruins at my feet and all I have left is my own bullshit.
It's funny that people get this amazing sense of self-gratification out of hating me, and frankly I don't blame them. I hate me, too. I hate the way I feel, I hate the way I think, I hate the way I act, I hate the way I talk. I hate being me. It's not pity. I don't want people to feel bad for me... I don't feel bad for me. Why would I expect anyone else to feel bad for me?
I put myself into stupid situations. I befriend or fall in love with people who end up leaving me absolutely ruined, and then I feel as though I am some sort of monster for the situation. I stay with people and continue to make myself and them miserable when I know I'm better off without them... I'm like a disease. Just stay away, because I'm bad for you. I look in the mirror, and lo and behold - I am everything I hate.
I'm just gearing up for the Apocolypse... Goddess help me....
And now... now that I am away from everything, I am thinking more than I think I can handle. My brain is like a tornado, ripping through everything that I thought made sense. Everything I knew, everything I thought I had figured out is now a pile of ruins at my feet and all I have left is my own bullshit.
It's funny that people get this amazing sense of self-gratification out of hating me, and frankly I don't blame them. I hate me, too. I hate the way I feel, I hate the way I think, I hate the way I act, I hate the way I talk. I hate being me. It's not pity. I don't want people to feel bad for me... I don't feel bad for me. Why would I expect anyone else to feel bad for me?
I put myself into stupid situations. I befriend or fall in love with people who end up leaving me absolutely ruined, and then I feel as though I am some sort of monster for the situation. I stay with people and continue to make myself and them miserable when I know I'm better off without them... I'm like a disease. Just stay away, because I'm bad for you. I look in the mirror, and lo and behold - I am everything I hate.
I'm just gearing up for the Apocolypse... Goddess help me....