Monday, October 21, 2013


So my biggest issue in life is that I don't like me and I think I have no future. I believe I have every right to hate me, I'm not a good person and regardless of what I think or try to do to change it, it doesn't help. I don't have the willpower to be a better person. I kinda suck as a human. But the other sad part of my existence is I don't really have a future. I don't know what I have that can help the world, that's beneficial to society. I'm a waste if I don't have a productive place in the world, or so the world tells me.

Power is worth.
Knowledge is power.
Lack of knowledge is worthlessness.
I failed a math rest pretty hard today. I took it last week and knew I did bad on it when I took it. I got sad, miserable, perhaps even close to temporarily depressed. I began writing things on my test. There was a section I knew I bombed. I wrote on the side something like " will be shocked, astonished, maybe even go as far as to say I'm flabbergasted if I get a single one of these right. Because I'm just down right intelligent. I've made spelling errors, I'm sure. Correct those too, continue to tell me how wrong and how much of a failure I am." Later at the end of the test, I wrote a long sad thing that she replied to in a "im trying to care" petty manner.

"I know that I'm just short of lobotomized on the scale of intelligence. That's what this class had taught me. That I'm a dim witted waste of an organism. Every teacher has said "this is what you need to succeed in life!" And I have none of those things. I won't make it. That being said, those things were told to me by people who didn't exactly make it, they're only just surviving. That's my only hope, that you're all wrong. It's a childish and feeble hope with no ground at all, but it's all I have. I'm sorry that I wasted your time by making you grade this, and I'm profusely sorry if you read this poorly written snapshot of my heart and soul. I really am sorry."

I vented. It was cry in class or vent. And I vented. And perhaps it was a mistake. She came back with pretty much a "oh golly, where'd you get that idea? Oh dearie, we should talk." I don't think we'll have a conversation. And if by some act of God we do, I don't see it helping me. I can't do the work, the concepts are beyond me. I can't quit, my parents won't let me and I need their signature to change classes. All I can do is struggle on the surface of this mathematical ocean, drowning slowly as things go over my head. My GPA will burn, my parents will become furious and punish me, I'll become mentally drained and emotionally barren. I'll be broken. At least that would come out of the scenario. Perhaps at that point my GPA will get better, but I have my doubts. I think I'll just become emotional and stressed, strained. I'll snap under the pressure of horrific math and parents weighing it down on my chest. I mean, I can't even do pre calculus. I won't make it through college, it's a million times harder. Then what? I'm a boy in a mans world, without a degree or talent, broken with nothing but a disapproving and controlling family left? What a miserable existence it will be.

I'm living in fear of that existence. My purposeless world. I have nothing to offer, and I am almost certain that schooling won't show me something that I can. I've been through 11 years of it, and nothing of worth to the world had been gained yet. Am I to believe the next 5 will?

Gosh, damn it... I have now, the fictitious world of skyrim, disapproving parents, a suicidal mind and a heart diseased with love. Or lust. It's unclear at times which it is. Which is deeply concerning and sad. I also have a mirriad of broken dreams and fears, friends with masks 3 layers deep, a school system built on control and the factory system, and the atrocious perk of learning things, and when I can tell others about these things, people think I'm bullshitting them. I don't know what to do with it all. There's more defects under more layers of caked on guilt and shame that God can't quite mine through.

What I do have is her. And she loves me and I love her. But I hate myself in retrospect always for the things I've done witb her, and the things I want from her. No sex, but I still have guilt. Regret. The one thing I wanted to do without. I swear, if she were anyone else she'd leave. She should. She really should. Just be done with me, move on and cut one of the final ties that keep this Zeppelin of self destruction tethered to the earth. But for some reason she hasn't. She loves me, that's her reason and I buy it. But why? For the few funny and charming moments? For the occasional love note that I recently haven't been giving her? The sweet treats that let her know I love her? Is it a good looking face or something? A black guys dick on a white guy? A sense that i truly at my core care for her? Why does she love me? What the fuck does she see in me that's so fantastic that she loves me for it? Why don't I see it or live it?

Is there something clinically wrong with me? I'm always like this with bouts of happiness occasionally. Seriously am I clinically depressed or something, do I have some mental disorder, a ducking chemical imbalance? I am alone in this level of self hate. Why? What's wrong with me?

Ugh... I'm just... Done. Well, I'm just going to return to breathing to death... Later...

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