Apparently.
I knew coming home would be like building a fragile glass fortress and shattering it the instant it’s complete. I feel like I slaved all day in a kitchen to make the finest meal only to be denied a plate when dinner is served. I fucking hate my life with a passion. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else, not including my worse enemies; even those bitches I really fucking hatedislike because they are so full of suck and wretched shittyness.
I’m mad that I’ve been fucked over so much in my life and I’ve done nothing but do for others. Sure, I have a foul mouth and I speak the truth in a terribly harsh way, but I have never been a malicious person. I need to build a mental floodgate to keep the sewage in my mind from leaking out of my mouth, because it always comes out as “talking shit,” even when it’s 100% truth. No matter what they say kids, honesty is not the best policy. As good of a liar as I can be, I’m surprised I feel so inclined to be truthful. People neither want the truth or deserve it.
I should do more than come off bad, I should be truly terrible. I should make every decision with bad intentions. I should earn this hell I live. I should tell all those people how utterly pointless it all is and that nobody fucking likes them for who they are and that they’re worth is not measured in how good they are but in how beneficial they are. I should turn back the clock and say “no” at every yes. I should take back every good thing I’ve done because what the fuck has it gotten me? Nothing at all! I should treat everyone with malice and not only earn my reputation for being “mean,” but truly embody it.
Why can’t I sleep? I’m not losing sleep over things I’ve done, I assure you. A lot has happened in the past I would change if I knew then what I knew now, but there is so much that I’d let remain the same so the lesson is learned. I feel like God blessed me with an active mind but within it the curse of restlessness; I can’t shut down. I feel like a fucking actor on a sitcom being beaten with a skillet. Episode after episode getting hurt and being laughed at. Whoever has the remote, please change the fucking channel. I’m tired of feeling like my life is someone’s sick idea of funny. I think that’s God’s entertainment and he as a twisted sense of humor.
Religious people say it is all a test, but when the fuck do you pass? Will I pass if I die with a smile on my face, despite how unhappy I was most of my life? Where will I go? There cannot be a worse hell than this, so what’s the punishment? Some say God puts these obstacles in front of you so they can make you stronger, but believe me, there is a point where strength gives way and all there is, is hopelessness. How many hurdles do I have to jump before I get a wide open track? Do my legs have to fall off first or will there be room for me to run coming soon?
Religious people have an answer for everything, except why the “wicked” thrive. If God wants us to live a certain way and live by certain principles why do people who blatantly go against that have good lives? Good is relative. I feel good. I feel in my heart that I am a good person. I am truthful enough about myself to know my flaws and believe me, I know them, but with them accounted for, I’m still far “better” in terms of relative goodness – than a lot of people I’ve known who have less shit against them than I do.
And yeah, I am partially to blame. I know that I make my circumstance, but really… what the fuck do you expect? I was blessed with an active mind but obviously not a focused one. I can learn everything but none of it will make a difference if I don’t have purpose in which to use it. Why was I told that dreams could come true? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice and fuck me, right? When I was real young I realized that all that dream talk was garbage and only some people’s dreams come true. I learned a little later on that success does not always reward hard work. Hell, some hard work just is and memories of it fade away along with the dreams carried on its back.
Again, this is my lack of sleep talking. Why I can’t sleep? Other than the fact that there are vampires out for my warm, tasty blood I can’t get over the fact that I am in THIS place. THIS place is not just the physical space I am occupying, the apartment we live in, but where I am stuck at mentally and emotionally. THIS place is dark as fuck and deep and my breathing is shallow, my head throbs and my eyes burn from straining so hard to see beyond it. All I can really do here is guess what’s out there and imagine myself clawing my way out of it and rejoining the world showered in light.
Sorry this was random, but I needed to stay awake. I’m sleepy as all get out but I won’t do it. They will not have me and I’d rather die. Literally. I’ll do nothing short of pass out from exhaustion before I let them win.