If someone has only themself their whole life, on-guard against everyone aside from themself at all times and all places, never being close to anyone, never feeling anything for anyone, only loving themself… wouldn’t that be miserable? Being a bad guy… is too painful.
I spent most of my life drifting… never really knowing who I was, or what I was meant to be.
Time went by but ıt didn't pass
The devastation of it all is weighing on my shoulders. I can barely carry it anymore…
This terrible, awful truth I hold is so very exhausting.
Whether I feel different or not, it doesn’t matter. I can run from every person, every place that reminds me of my past, but it’s still always there.
Distraction, denial, avoidance… they don’t work.
Because I’m still broken inside, and nobody fucking cares.
If anyone has a vial of poison they’d like to slip into my coat pocket, now’s the time.
Anyone relates
So I suppose I am able to care about things… They’re just not things that will help me in any real way. In fact, it seems like the things I care about are things that will ultimately fuck me over.
It’s a great spot to be in.
I could use the distraction. Because lately whenever I’m by myself, the silence seems to echo louder than someone screaming directly in my face.
‘If you gaze into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.’ I don’t know whether you’ve had that feeling. Sometimes I feel like I have a mental disorder and living is pointless.
Trauma can also change a person beyond recognition. Sometimes you look at other people, then look in the mirror, and you feel hollow inside. You think, how did I become like this? I don’t even recognize myself.
Ordinary people pursue things, nothing but houses, cars, careers, love, position, dreams. They’re busy every day, each one of them holding a bellyful of worries and happiness. Their worries are genuine feelings, and their happiness is sincere. They don’t know what ‘inconstancy’ is. They think that today is the same as yesterday is the same as tomorrow. They won’t think, ‘I’m only an ant sitting on a dead leaf floating in the river that can overturn any time.’
But you’re different. You can’t spend your days like that. You’re like a hen that’s had its feathers scared off by a firework and can’t lay eggs anymore.—You look at other people and think that all the things they’re pursuing are illusions. You can’t treat them as real. They can vanish just like that. You have nightmares every day. Your head is full of vain hopes. You’re irritable, worried, anxious for absolutely no reason…
And It doesn’t pass. These things never pass.
Pride and Prejudice
Still, a girl likes to be crossed in love now and then.
It gives her something to think of, and a sort of distinction amongst her companions