(no subject)
I thought I'd found it then - you know, that moment just before everything slips through your fingers and it's gone. All the answers seem so surreal to you in these moments, suspended in your own confusion. Nothing's real. But then, what isn't real? That's surreality for you. That's how I live. The way I breathe. And I'm still having trouble believing what's happened to me over the years. That my own father would do something like that. That my mother and sister would say such things and feel those ways. That I, of all people, could hate the people that I should love. A you, him, her, dad, mom, me. Me. It's all back to me, and it always has been. Every fucking second of my life has to be about me or else it's not worth my time. That's how god damn pathetic I am. But I don't pity myself because I know, really, this is nothing. All of that really is bullshit; families tear apart. People lose themselves and each other. No solace. No sorrow. Just lacking something intangible that seemed to once be there.
I never really thought about it, but I guess if I do, I don't really care about anyone. I can't really name a person who I would really crumble if they died. I used to cry myself to sleep thinking about my parents dying. That would almost be escape for me now. I don't know if this is temporary or permanent mental damage but it feels nice to not have to care about anyone, you should try some of this.
It's not a drug. It's a lifestyle.
Look at my face and listen to my words and imagine that none of that is real. Tell me you worry or you care or you want to do something. That's real nice, but seriously? Fuck off. If I wanted your sympathy I'd do stupid shit like cut myself and wear short sleeve tee-shirts then write about blood and suicide in my journal for you to read. I don't fucking CARE ABOUT ANY OF THIS.
If I did, maybe I'd let you know.
You want a summary of this year? It fuckin' sucked, like every other year in school since I learned to think for myself. I don't have regrets because those are worthless. Give me a time machine and maybe I'll have regrets. I didn't find God and I'm glad because I was too close for fucking comfort. It's too late now anyway. I know too much about this fucked up world to ever want to believe in some guy up there pulling strings, because even if I did believe, he'd be a fucking asshole and just another guy to hate. If there was a Jesus I'm sure he was nothing special. Hey, I can be the modern Jesus! I've been beaten for three years by some stupid fuck on the playground, I come from a broken home and I'm not of the majority religion. Stone me stone me! Crucify me, please. Then worship my dead body.
I didn't really make any new friends. Sorry if you guys thought you were my friends, but I most likely think you're shallow, blind fucks. Maybe a few exceptions. I'll leave you to wonder a while if you're an exception, then just decide I'm another asshole that ruined your life. Nothing new.
I have to end this like the rest of you attention whores or else I'm not cool, right? plz comment <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
No, wait, kill yourself first.
I never really thought about it, but I guess if I do, I don't really care about anyone. I can't really name a person who I would really crumble if they died. I used to cry myself to sleep thinking about my parents dying. That would almost be escape for me now. I don't know if this is temporary or permanent mental damage but it feels nice to not have to care about anyone, you should try some of this.
It's not a drug. It's a lifestyle.
Look at my face and listen to my words and imagine that none of that is real. Tell me you worry or you care or you want to do something. That's real nice, but seriously? Fuck off. If I wanted your sympathy I'd do stupid shit like cut myself and wear short sleeve tee-shirts then write about blood and suicide in my journal for you to read. I don't fucking CARE ABOUT ANY OF THIS.
If I did, maybe I'd let you know.
You want a summary of this year? It fuckin' sucked, like every other year in school since I learned to think for myself. I don't have regrets because those are worthless. Give me a time machine and maybe I'll have regrets. I didn't find God and I'm glad because I was too close for fucking comfort. It's too late now anyway. I know too much about this fucked up world to ever want to believe in some guy up there pulling strings, because even if I did believe, he'd be a fucking asshole and just another guy to hate. If there was a Jesus I'm sure he was nothing special. Hey, I can be the modern Jesus! I've been beaten for three years by some stupid fuck on the playground, I come from a broken home and I'm not of the majority religion. Stone me stone me! Crucify me, please. Then worship my dead body.
I didn't really make any new friends. Sorry if you guys thought you were my friends, but I most likely think you're shallow, blind fucks. Maybe a few exceptions. I'll leave you to wonder a while if you're an exception, then just decide I'm another asshole that ruined your life. Nothing new.
I have to end this like the rest of you attention whores or else I'm not cool, right? plz comment <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
No, wait, kill yourself first.