Every now and then when I get bored as hell I begin to write random shit down to try and understand the way I think. I just found a few sheets of paper from last year and found that my thoughts haven’t changed sense then. This is the paper I’ve found I only ask what you think my “problem” is. I already have an idea of what it is but a general conscious would be appreciated.
Hey, whoever is reading this I say welcome! Continue to read if you wish. I don’t have a Journal or binder right now, but what I do have are thoughts a pen and a few sheets of paper. This may not be very entertaining to read but it’s not really meant for you, It’s more for myself, then anything. This is the general story of my existence.
I say my existence and not my life because I still have yet to live. To quote one of my favourite songs, Zero Tolerance by Death. “It must be strange not to have lived so far into existence.” And that’s what I have. An existence not a life. I spend nearly all my time playing games or listening to music. I listen to music more then I play games. I find it helps with my existence issue.
I am a waste of space an resources. I cost much more then I will ever create and I am not worth it. Yet, for some reason I refuse to die. It’s probably more animal instinct then my own reason. No body wants to die. I just think that if I did, it would be a lot easier. I find people who kill themselves however deserve their death. If someone kills themselves then they deserve it, they are weak and can’t handle the waiting game so they need to cheat and get to the end faster.
The thing about existence is it’s a long slow and lonely death. And I hate being alone. I think being alone is the worst form of torture and it’s all self inflicted. I don’t want to be alone anymore, and the only thing stopping me is myself. I only have one friend left but I am slowly losing him and will soon have no one. For whatever reason I cannot talk in anyway to anyone about anything, not even my family. And it fucking kills me when ever I do to my dads house, because his father was never around for him and he really wants to be a larger part of my life but when I go to his house I do the same thing to him that I do to everybody else and I really want to be able to talk to AT LEAST with him and other family. Other people can come after. When ever someone talks to me no matter who I will freeze up for what ever fucking reason and respond to everything with a nod, or a grunt. AND IT NEVER fucking changes. I will go to my dads sometimes with the thought of: This is it. this is the day I will man the fuck up and talk to my father. It shouldn’t be so hard! we’re nearly the same person for fuck sake!
So instead of reaching out with others I lock my self away and wait day after day for death. But I don’t think I should. I think I should go out as much as I can, and I do try to, but their aren’t many opportunity’s when you don’t know anyone and when your only friend lives half way across the province, and are stuck babysitting every fucking day.
Another problem I have is my school work. My grades reflect that of someone who is catatonic. I know I’m not stupid but for whatever reason I think lying in bed doing nothing but think, is somehow better then just doing the damn work. It’s not like it’s hard or anything. Most of the time when I actually do it I find it to be quite easy actually. It’s just another thing my brain does that I need to learn to control.
Any thought on me?
