I titled this Blog/Rant but isnt that everything on this page haha
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I feel like a prisoner in my own home. I went outside to sweep the
porch and realized my brother wasn’t home and I could’ve gone out
and got some blue. And then I remembered what they did to me. I knew
I was being spoilt and ungrateful but hell, I’ve never allowed
myself to feel any true emotion until recently. And now, still I am
bound by my own learnt “civilizations”. They made me fear my own
mind and hate myself and become the person I am today. Part of me is
grateful that they did it to me, or else I might’ve ended up as
stupid as the rest of them. Before I continue I better put a
disclaimer: I know I’ve being emotional and illogical and what I
say now might not reflect how I really feel in a few minutes.
Ok let’s start.
At this moment, right now, I feel no love for my family. I
cognitively know that I should but I don’t. My parents worked for
their children, but why have children when you can’t afford it? I
guess sex education was bad at the time but for god’s sake it was
her choice not to abort me and my sister had a hand in it too. My
sister might be making the same mistake, and oh how I wish they’d
all learn.
I’m so tired of
being trapped. When my brother said that night he’d be “bound by
obligation” to take me to A&E if I ever felt suicidal it made
me want to jump in front of a train right there and then and force
him and my mom to witness me, killing myself, in spite. I wanted them
to feel the unimaginable pain they feared, because that’s what they
were doing to me. First it was HM, then it was W and E and now it’s
J. I know I drove them away with my own neuroticism but hell, I don’t
want to live anymore if I continue feeling this loveless. My friends
love me, but I don’t feel it. Why can I only feel love when it
comes in the form of admiration or complete submission to me? Why?
Why did I have to grow up feeling like this and romanticizing broken
and mentally ill characters and rebels? I don’t wish to change my
life anymore. At this point getting my own apartment has no meaning
to me anymore because I will always be under someone’s control or
jurisdiction-legally, emotionally, physically. I will never be truly
free like Lana Del Rey’s lyrics describe. Society will always have
a chokehold on me and I will always hate myself and everything that
made me, me. My parents made me hate the house. All I want to do is
get high and throw myself off a building. I think it’s scary
because I’m starting to think maybe that day on that ledge the only
thing keeping me from going was the fear of jumping and surviving.
I don’t even
want to die anymore. I want more than that. I want to have never
existed in this shitty fucking world. I can’t see the light. It was
getting dimmer and dimmer, after that brief flash of brightness after
Sticky Buddy’s phone call. I’m so fucking tired of living for
those tiny flashes of brightness because they aren’t worth the pain
and the numbness and hollowness in me. I’m arrogant enough to say
that if God is the only thing that will fill my hollowness, I’d
honestly rather die. So many associations so many thoughts are
running through my head now and all I want is for someone to kill me
quickly and painlessly, like in the lovely bones. God, she was so
lucky to not have felt the pain. And to have it happen so fast. I
don’t understand why people have such an issue with suicide. Fuck,
if I want to go, I should have the right to. And I do. But something
is stopping me. And I used to find hope in that but now all I feel is
hatred of the thing that makes me too cowardly to jump from a high
place. I hate the thing that’s tethering me to this pitiful
existence. I’ve seen orphans and videos of people in war and talked
to some of them and everyone expects me to be grateful for this but
all I feel is numbness. Maybe I feel hollow because people expect me
to feel things and I just don’t, because I’ve been raised to be
paranoid and second guess everything. And still, I never learn. I
never have full comprehension of consequences till the worst happens.
Maybe that’s why most of the people I’ve been with have left me.
Something doesn’t allow me to appreciate them as much as I could.
I’m tired of
feeling like shit all the time. I’m so fucking tired. The
alternative isn’t feeling better. The alternative I want is to
disappear as if I’d never existed at all. Fuck afterlives and
heaven and consequences. Leave that to the people who care. I don’t.
I’m just constantly dissatisfied with everything. I know that’s
an effect of using but I can’t let go. Fuck I wanna go buy some
right now but fuck ugh fuck everything I just wanna get high and die
lah serious.
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