In the event of my demise

6:35am. I am not indulging in my love, alcohol tonight, for that reason I feel all the more sad. The melancholy feelings that pursue my soul for an eternity knows no bounds! I want to speak tonight about my upcoming visit. In the event of my demise, I would like to tell the world some things. One, that it is cursed with mounds of flesh that take and take and take, to give so little back. Two, that these mounds of flesh that take so much, are full of truly cruel ideas, they are evil, and damned. Three, that I along with others, were not meant to be apart of this cruel reality. Four, that I wish I was different, normal and not so fucked up with things that I wish I could forget. Five, that I am sorry, I am sorry for all of the things I ever did to my loving friends, and family members, and never have I felt such guilt in my everyday life until I grew into my age of 18. Six, well fuck society, fuck everything it wants, everything you desire to have, the american standard of life, and how it pressures us to exist in it's warped mirror. Seven, I've hated myself for only 22 years, but I think my hatred extends for an eternity. Eight, no matter how much things you want, or think you need, it will never be enough, because as humans we are doomed to be forever in a state of suffering. Nine, I don't think anyone beyond the age of 30 is alive to better humanity. Ten, whatever you want to do with your life, make sure to do it alone and completely, because you never know when your feeble body decides to stop working. I sure wish I could've finished what I wanted to say, but words themselves, will never be enough. I think it is because words can never express something inside your heart. It's because sometimes, no matter how much you write, you can never say the things inside you. 

What should I love?

5:27am. To love, is to feel all the feelings. What I hear profusely shouted from the masses, is that love is what makes a person complete. That a whole person is not real, unless they are filled with the soul of another. I say no, I say fuck that. I say, fuck love. To need another makes you all the more vulnerable, and disease ridden with the plague of dependence. I am told, that there is nothing in this universe stronger than love. If there's nothing stronger than love, let me die lonely and in despair because love is too simple a pleasure for someone like me. Love is too simple, it holds you with it's hands, warm and healthy. I wish to slap them away with pain and anger, for love is a waste of a breath I prefer to use to breathe in hatred, and sadness. So, I'll wither away with my loneliness and despair, because this cold embrace is no fallacy, it is dependable, and will always find a place in my heart.

Seeking something

6:38am. I feel so bad sometimes. I cannot bear the pain, at times. Like I cannot fathom the immense sadness. I think it's good though, when my heart aches, because it means I am still human. I fear the day that I may no longer feel anything for anyone. Once that day comes, I think I would no longer feel for humanity. Maybe I am fucked up as a person, I am broken and wrong. I think so, because what else would make sense? I just wish I was satisfied with simple things, like I see so many others... I wish that my heart could bare such simple joys. Until then, I will let myself anguish in this pitiful existence, this joyless meandering through life. Ah, let me live, I pray, let me live. before I die.

Confession

3:16am. I have a confession, I have a truth that I must say. I am sad, stricken with grief. I think these days, while I come closer and closer to one of my goals, I feel emptier than when I had the drive to get them. I feel a bit hollow, hollowed out in my freedom. Am I destined to feel so empty, always? Where are these feelings that I used to own? I have no comfort in my life. I feel every day gone from myself. Like I am not really in the moment, I am distant. Distant from the place in my flesh and bone, my walking corpse of a body. I see all these people, all the time, these people who are able to do things that make them happy, or give them a sense of purpose. I wish that were enough for me, I wish I had enough things, and enough money to make myself happy. I think I might die young, and I am so afraid of that. I am so afraid that I will find a way to make myself accept it. Afraid of the darkness that precedes it. Man I miss my friends, I miss the feeling of comfort in their laughter, in their joy. I think I run from it though, I run from this happiness, because I do not want to feel joy anymore. I think I may be lost within myself. Oh how I wish I were here, I wish I was home, away from myself!

Too young.

It's 4:46am. People die too young. They decide to take their lives, and I agree with them. I agree that they would decide to end soon, unlike others who decide to extend their pitiful existence for years on end. I think I am scared though, of the void, of the end. I am scared of ending my life before I am finished with it. I think one day I will accept it. Maybe I will finally be able to do it with full confidence. For the time being, I cannot do it. I have too much to do, before I end my life. It does feel like a sizzling fire though, I feel it at the back of my mind, I feel it there, sitting, waiting for me to be able to accept it. I wonder what could fool myself into this. Or maybe it is my future, my actual destiny to commit suicide. I would imagine so, because I have no real goals, or interests for humanity. I hold no legacy for this pitiful existence, I am simply watching as this whole failure of a society crumbles. It's okay though, I do not need to know or seek anything like so many others do, I think I am destined to die, like so many others. I will be fine, I will be something other than human, or something other than enjoying happiness. I am sad, I am destined for apathy, destined for failure, destined for the underlying disease of existence. I am simply, a loner.

Deepest fear.

It's 4:18am. Intimacy. Intimacy is my deepest fear. Not because I am afraid of love. More as in, I am afraid of the person that I show. Or of being loved and cared for by another, maybe it is this pestilence in me. It is this cancer, or maybe I am forever uncaring, unfeeling. I am but a poison to this world, or a watcher. I think I am afraid of caring about others, it feels too dangerous. Why do I feel this way? I think that others make me too vulnerable, too docile, not ready to bare the burden of losing someone. I don't want to repeat the same mistakes, so I must build walls of stone around my heart. It is too dangerous to love, to want, to need. So, bludgeon my heart with sticks and stones wrapped in barbed wire, to make me a cold monster. Hurt me, more and more until pain makes me whimper no more, till the end of time. The end of my life.

Fading away

4:57am. I don't know what to write anymore. I cannot understand myself. At times, I find myself more lost that I ever am. I move through these feelings sometimes, and I make no sense of them. I am trash. I never understood how people can tell themselves that. Yet at the same time I know why I would tell that to myself. It's because it's true. I always try to numb myself with things, trying to fuck my brain on things that will make me forget myself even if it's for a minute. I think these things are fucking useless, maybe I am just trying to run from myself. It's all garbage, all of it. I'm a piece of shit. I can't fucking understand anything. I'm stupid, ugly, annoying, I don't know. I don't know.

Daydreams

It's 6:14am. I found myself tonight, among the bodies of my old selves, in between the sheets of skin and bone. I find myself in the ripples of the pools of blood and mulch. I find myself deeply seated in a world of incurable cancer. Tell me sweet nothings, people who have no face. Tell me how much I have missed from the world, tell me how much I am wrong about things. Tell me, again and again how I am mistaken. I am mistaken, truly, but not in my demeanor, or my ideas, but in the faith I have placed in humanity. A faith that I gave to the world, and it was torn apart by the cruel and careless. Leave me be, leave me be, for one of meaninglessness should not pursue the simple treasures of humans. I need more, I need less, yet I find myself among the blood and flesh of these faceless creatures of day. Fuck the world, fuck the world and it's evil.

Where am I?

It's 5:22am. I lost a friend tonight. I decided to. I think I have something in me, that doesn't allow relationships. I remember it started in high school. I began to drift away from my friend L. L was a guy you could definitely count on, cheery full of love. I called him my best friend once, in middle school. I am a terrible friend. I remember how I felt, this feeling. How I wished to throw away my relationships. I think I just can't anymore. My other would like to have such feelings of happiness, but it never subsides, it just comes and goes as it wants. When it comes, it feels like I need the distance, otherwise I will break down. I will break like so many times before. I will bend and shatter in my mind, like glass. I'm saddened by this loss. I'm saddened that I cannot feel happy with him anymore. Once I am alone though, once I have regained myself, I think I will be happier. Whenever I am with others, I think I am not real, I am not complete. It is only when I am completely alone, I feel joy, I feel a sense of fulfillment. All these people, all these noises just throw me in to a state of disarray, of mess. Once I am alone again, I think I will be able to breathe. I think I am one of those people, who do not feel happy with others. I may be a freak, but I think I can never be happy with others. I am broken, maybe a little fucked up, but I am me. That is all I ever want to be, me.

Killing the 'other'

It's 6:15am. I want to write a separate post about this. I have two parts of me, I think. One, the open and loving one. The one that does want relationships, he makes himself known to the world, speaking about everything in his mind. Then there's the more prevalent one, the cold pitiless one, the one without a heart, without empathy. I feel like the real me is more in line with the cold one. I feel it, killing off the other, the one who wants socialization. I wish for it to murder it, but maybe it cannot be completely killed. Maybe somewhere in this cold, dead heart, I have a glimmer of hope. A glimmer of fire that cackles within my heart. I hope that one day, it dies. I hope that I can finally lose the grasp of the relationship part of me. I just want to be okay, alone forever. I just want to see a couple and feel nothing, instead of sadness or disgust. I want to love myself, for an eternity and beyond. Fuck love, fuck friendships, and fuck the world

Lucidity in Loneliness

It's 6:08am. Tonight I want to speak about a few things, whether you can empathize is up to you. I felt alive a few days ago, strangely it was like the fog was lifted from my brain. I am usually in this state of complete unawareness. This state of murky fog that envelops my brain at all times. I think it is why I have decreased senses. That day though, even if it was for only a few hours, I felt real. I felt like I was in the present, not lingering on the past or thinking about the future. I wonder, if it is what others feel like at all times, being completely aware of everything around them. It was not like when I drank an energy drink, to try and increase my processing. It was more like, I could see everything, and I could process normally. The normal, the mound of flesh. They have these things that make them so abhorrently average, it is strange to be someone like me, to want those things. I detest them, how normal and so in sync with life, they are. How they could be satisfied with simple things. Oh how my stomach turns to think of myself assimilating like they do! Do they not want something else!? How can they be so alright with everything?! I need to study them further, to see them more often, to figure out who they are.

Let's avoid this.

It's 4:39am. I don't know what to write this time, I don't know because I do not think I am a good writer. I write usually because I want to say something, but usually it's in the throws of my alcoholic whims. I pine for a day that I can say I write with such prose as the people in magazines and journalists who speak about the world. It's a bit maddening, to say the least, to be in such shadows of titans. Many times I blather on about my feelings, but I love to use the words in ways that sound beautiful. Regardless of the hugely ridiculous meanings behind them. Looping words together in a sentence that makes one question where the writer's mind was at the time. If I could write poetry, I would. Yet I find myself in a world where I could never in a million years attempt to make such words sparkle like poets do. Maybe, in the future, I would be able to form things. Tonight though, I cannot. So here's to tomorrow, and tomorrow. To the future!

Looming Terror

It's 4:43am. I am lost in this abyss, my love. I am lost in your everlasting embrace. I am lost in this beckoning call to me. This call that cuts through my skin like butter, this call that makes me gag with poison in my lungs. Oh love, my love, how I wish to touch your skin! How I wish I could hold you together, with stitches made of my sadness! My poem to my love, my loneliness. I feel it, the looming dread, the looming terror, valentines day. This day signifies love, empathy, compassion for another. I think people struggle with this because they are like me, unfeeling, uncaring. They willfully ignore their urges to pretend they have some sort of morality. They profusely dictate how above the average they are, with their meaningless cries of love, or gifts that bring simple joys. To someone like me, I feel indifferent, not because I detest such cries, but because I do not feel it. I do not feel such feelings of love, of connection. It's a bit annoying, I will not lie, to listen to babbling people speak about their significant others and their so "pure" relationship. It's annoying because one knows they lie through their teeth, no relationship is "pure" or completely invulnerable. Relationships are riddled with holes that are glaring to any person. We as people, should not cater to this ridiculous concept of a complete full feeling, when with another. It is a feeble attempt at distancing oneself from the truth, the void that is always in our soul. That is why, I choose loneliness as my companion, for eternity. Loneliness will never leave me, or hurt me in a way I do not see coming. It is comfortable, and forever there staring back at me. People, can be replaced, but loneliness, TRUE loneliness, can never change. So tonight I say, I love you, and forever will love you loneliness.

Bojack Horseman and the pressure of life.

It's 5:15am. Bojack Horseman is an amazing show. I want to speak tonight about it. From the beginning, you know how self absorbed the main protagonist, Bojack really is. He uses people to make himself feel better. In the throws of his alcoholism, he spills himself all over people who care about him. You begin to empathize, with his character. How no matter what he does, to feel the smallest of positive emotion, he manages to ruin it. Much how life really is, it's unpredictable and it really weighs down on you. It touches on suicide, Secretariat, a father like figure for our protagonist manages to touch my heart in a delicate way. The whole show has this very heavy feeling looming over the entire time it runs. In the end, though there's so much to unpack. It finally lets you breathe, and when you do, you realize how cold life can really be. There is no end all, be all, answer to the questions that plague your soul, there is only existence. Your choice to continue life, to feel, to love, to hate. It never tells you that it all will work out, it never tells you that everything is futile. It tells you that sometimes, most of the time, there really isn't an answer. I think that's the most important part of the show, the ambiguity of life. How you want things to work out in this neat little package, but realize the package isn't neat, it is messy and sometimes it doesn't fit. There will be pain, there's going to be failure, and regret. The only thing you can do is move forward with it, but learning as you go. To be, to finally exist. It's nice, to think about, I think it is important to know, to learn, about how those things can change you as a person. You make life worth living, to live to do something, or to live and choose what you want. There is no answer, and that is okay.

Sleep

It's 5:52am. I'm not ready for tomorrow, every single night I'm always dreading tomorrow. I never want to sleep. Because sleep would give me the illusion of how real tonight is. I want to stay awake forever, because forever is the night of eternity. How one would want to sleep is a fucking nightmare. To sleep is to accept death! To sleep is to remember the nights and mornings of the future. To sleep tonight would be to finally say I accept all I did today, and I am not ready. I am not ready to accept that all I did today was in fact, worth it. I am not ready to accept that I did nothing I wanted to, said things I would've liked to say, yelled things I wanted to tell the world! Maybe this sleep, is the sleep that is a glimpse of the eternal sleep.  It is what we gaze into when we are close to death. How careless, and unending it is. This black hole that finally begins to grow and swallow us whole. once we near our end. It makes me so sad, to know this darkness will swallow us. I am so afraid of it, how it will take everything. I think no one is afraid of what it will do, but when it comes, it comes will full force. its so much harder to accept. I guess, I am afraid too, how it will eat me. If only I could accept this. I am afraid, and alone. Fuck I wish I was something other than so! Let me be eaten, then! Let my soul be devoured by the end! Oh I am such a disease! Help me, help me feel!

I have no idea

It's 5:30am. I'm a little tossed, as usual. I find myself tonight in a state of helplessness. I find myself stretching out my arm for the comfort of another. I think it is called loneliness. To be a loner means to be accepting of such a feeling, to accept a feeling of perpetual loneliness. Maybe it is my diminished sense of humanity, that pursues such feeble emotions. To want another is a disgusting attempt at connection. I say such things, because deep down I want it, what so many others have within themselves. This emotion, this feeling that they can connect with others, but no matter how many "I love you" s and "I want you"s I am told, I still can't feel them. It's like this feeling is barred off by a wall. Maybe, I think, it's because of what happened to me as a child, but I don't think it would affect me so. I feel like I could move past it, like I should not be defined by this specific instance. I always felt like a monster, an abomination that could not feel. I think I should let it go, but I know I cannot ever leave it, it is a part of me. This trauma, this emptiness, I should learn to look into the mirror of this monster, to feel it again, to remember how I was. Once I have accepted it, I think I will be able to move forward. I will finally be able to see things differently. I just wish it was easier, easier than I would want it to be. I'm just always in this rut, of mud and muck. I always feel like I'm slugging through a world filled with blood, and awful horrors. I think I'm just so afraid, afraid of them. Afraid that these people who are not like me, how they could scream out how awful they are. I guess I am afraid of others, and what they might do.

Pain

It's 8:27am. I'm drunk. I want to talk tonight about my life. I want to talk about the sadness within, oh god how I have this hole in me. I hate to just pretend that I never have such a sinking feeling within me. Every single day I do things that normal people do. It's very taxing, to have this in me. Like I can't ever be normal, god I wish I was normal. Every day I struggle for a gasp of the normalcy that everyone holds. I just want to cry, I want to cry everything out, but I can't cry at all. My tears hold nothing anymore. I just have this continuous sadness within me, and I can never cure it. I can never cure this feeling, how it penetrates me so. God I wish I was just dead. I wish my friends and family never knew me, I wish I never tried to help others. I wish I never tried anything. Fuck sometimes I just wish I disappeared into nothing. I'm so fucked, when I was a kid I saw some things that no child should see, and I think I just hurt. I am so hurt, and I think I can never recover. I'm so sick of trying to hide. I'm just so sick. Oh and my stomach feels like a fucking whirlwind, my head is spinning into madness, and I'm just going to sit here in the dark and accept it. I just wish I was happy, for a while. I wish I knew what the feeling of happiness was, I wish I felt like I knew anything. So I'm just going to dig, for a while, dig for a place that I hope to figure out where I stand. Where am I?