Word Count: 2872
Okay. More shite. To complain about. People. Sometimes i hate people. People, in general. And i think it stems from jealousy. Yeah, i can admit it, i'm jealous of people. Most of the time it's harmless, almost an incentive to keep trying to find what i'm looking for. But sometimes it isn't. Sometimes hearing about peoples' happy memories makes me upset. Hearing about peoples' fun-filled teens and twenties, makes me want to scream with frustration. With anger. And in the words of Yoda, anger leads to hate, leads to suffering. I start to spiral downward again. Round and around. I storm out of what i'm doing, who i'm talking to. Try to ignore it, but i can't look away. Think that, hey, maybe it won't affect me today. But it always does. I mean, come on. Losing your virginity at 18. How is that seen as being a late-bloomer?! Tell me how that fulfils the criteria of late?
I mean, is the social norm so skewed that having sex before that time is regular for most people? I don't see how. I don't see how people can have the confidence that early. I was out of action from the time i was 12, until i was 15. The intervening years were a maelstrom of self-loathing, depression and social withdrawal. By the time i was 18, i was borderline suicidal. From then til now hasn't been much different. I've never been comfortable enough with myself, mentally, to even be able to approach a woman for friendship, never mind a sexual relationship, or the even slimmer prospect of a romantic one. I've never had the nerve to call over a girl who i know by name. How fucking insane is that?! The very thought of pronouncing a girl's name in her presence, comes to a roadblock. How can i possibly ever hope to make a girl giggle at a terrible joke? And women don't respond to shy men. Not any women i know.
Blending in because of crippling anxiety is the only thing i know how to do. Try and fit in with the furniture whenever i go out. Head lowered, avoiding the possibly of eye contact. What if they think i'm staring at them. Undressing them with my eyes? What if she looks back? What if she waves. And i wave back. And there's someone behind me waving at her? No, best keep my head down. I wonder what state Roland's damn Tower is in now. Leave the other guys to talk to her, she'd be happier talking to them anyway. That's the type of shit that runs through my head. What if she doesn't hear me? What if she doesn't understand what i'm saying? What if she mistakes my smile for a creepy leer? Who am i kidding, she won't look at my face. No point. Might as well go back home, safety in isolation. What if she has a boyfriend, and he comes over while i'm trying to speak? And he kisses her on the cheek. And i have to quickly leave because i have something in my eye.
I don't understand how it's possible to miss what you've never had. I don't understand how that's fair. Can you be addicted to something you've never had? All i know is that the empty vacuum isn't filling. It's not cutting it anymore. The vacuum is getting bigger. Every story i hear about sexual conquest, wild nights, the best sexual experience ever had, i die a little more inside. The vacuum grows. Encompasses a little more. The last shreds of self esteem are being torn out. One by one. The worthlessness grows. The self-esteem napkin is running out. 95% of it has been used for spitballs in a straw. The last remnants are waiting to be ripped away, chewed up and spat out, stuck to the neck of someone's orgasm with their true love. That's a shit analogy, but you know what i mean. I like joking about it. I like hearing ridiculous sex things, in a joking manner. But when people talk about tantric sex with their lifelong partner i can't handle it. It's too damn depressing.
Hearing about someone sleeping with partners, trying to find the perfect one, until, at last, they found the right person, the person they love and can hold forever, the person that they couldn't imagine life without, makes me want to cry. Makes me want to close my eyes and not open them again. Makes me want to slam my head into a wall, just to stop the sense of sadness from progressing any further. Just to take a break. I know that people, in general, don't want to keep happiness to themselves. They want to scream it and shout it from the rooftops. That the world is good! Love exists! I've found it! You can too!! I love him/her with all my heart and he/she loves me back. I'm going to be happy for the rest of my long life!
That's good for you, yeah, but what about me? What about the tonne of shit i'm buried up to my neck in? What about the fact that most people never find that? What about the fact that i would love nothing more than to find that myself, but know, deep down i never will? Happiness is happiness, but please don't scream it from every rooftop, every day. Sometimes it's just too hard to take. Sometimes it just tears other peoples' emotions to shreds. I know it's difficult to contain all your joy, but please try. The majority of other people are miserable, and having somebody proclaiming their joy is like salt in the wound. It's like biting into a lime, when you think it's a lemon. The bitterness you find is too staggering to deal with.
So i remove myself from these situations when i can. The effects aren't worth it. The repurcussions are too horrible to deal with. Another thing i CAN NOT STAND, is people complaining about what they have. Complaining that they haven't had sex in a week? Get the fuck over yourself. A fucking week?! Oh you poor bastard (dripping with sardonicism). A whole week?! Well gee-wiz, that's quite a dry spell you're going through there. Give me a fucking break. And if the person you're dating is intolerably cute, and you look like such a lovely couple together, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. And please. PLEASE! Don't inform everyone about your current sex life in a public way. If you cum into someone's ass, i don't particularly want to hear that. I don't really want to be reminded of how big a fucking loser i am, every second of every day. Just the regular, half the time i spend prostrating myself is enough. If you're going to joke about it, go right ahead, but don't talk about lovey-dovey happiness ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Don't talk about how sex with someone you love, because you've found it, is the most magical experience in existence. You're a lucky fucker, not everyone else is. Kthnx.
Bragging about the joyous times you're having is annoying. I know it's childish and petty and snide of me to even write any of this but i'm angry right now. Very fucking angry. And i'm venting. I fucking hate a lot of stuff. A lot of my energy is taken up by hatred. But i'm trying to change that. I don't get angry or pissed off at the people i should most of the time. I don't vent my anger. I let it fester for a long time, which eventually leads to fermentation of grievances into the liquid we all know and love as: depression.
Yes, the joys of depression. The wanting to bawl your eyes out and tear your skin off at the same time. The wanting to physically cut out your own fat because you hate your body so much it hurts sometimes. The feeling of coldness that comes when you see someone you like, happy with somebody else. The coldness becomes numbness and the numbness becomes anguish, and the anguish becomes sadness, and the sadness becomes self-harming tendencies. That's as far as i've gotten, anyway. The joyous fucking cycle. The coldness eventually comes from every aspect of you life. You feel like bawling and tearing your skin off to warm up again. Get rid of the rising coldness. Your unhappiness about your appearance is causing another cold front to join what's already happening. Where does it end? When the coldness reaches critical mass? The balloon fills. And has nothing to do but burst.
Physically is a different story entirely. I'll never be comfortable with my physical self. Never, in any way. So tha is happening anyway. On top of things. My physical fate is sealed. I know that much. Doesn't make it any easier though. Accepting the grim truth doesn't fix anything. If anything it makes it harder. It paints everything in a light of apathy. It drains the energy you might have once had. It makes ever slimmer the possibility of finding any semblance of a relationship, before you buy the farm. Mostly, it's just sad. Just unparalleled sadness, most of the time. The meds are still working, but not in as effective a way. This is the bad side coming out again. The painfully honest, miserable side. Excuse the ramblings, as a result.
But just, sometimes, it seems that people come into chat, specifically to brag about how fantastic their life is. It's probably a ridiculous and unfounded feeling, but it's one i get nonetheless. If somebody comes in and talks about how great their life is going, it's a bit of a kick in the face. But, by far, what i can't abide the most, is people who complain when they have nothing to complain about. Complaining because your normal perfect life has a small blip is infuriating. Because your hair looks a tad messy and your dream boy/girlfriend might utter a five second criticism after you've enjoyed each others company for 30 seconds less than normal. That type of shit. Or because you get 32 comments on your blog instead of 40. Get some real problems please. Or shut the fuck up. Enjoy your beauty, health and sexual lifestyle.
Another thing, not part of the rant, is that i'm finding it a little easier to talk about things. The sexual side of things. Hell, i've even started expressing opinions on what gets my motor running, so to speak. Casual conversation, in that... um... "department", is a little easier now. I don't really have any qualms about admitting if i think something is sexy or not, regardless of the way it makes me look.
Earlier today i had an epiphany. For the first real time i can recall i appreciated beauty. In a completely new way. It was a sexual attraction, yes, but i also saw, for use of a better word, beauty. I won't say who it was, haha, that'd be a little embarrassing, but it did happen earlier today. Just something abstract, i suppose, the concept of beauty. Different to the normal type of feeling that comes into my head. Not the yeah, look at the tits on her type of thing, more than that. Appreciating the inherent beauty in a woman. Regardless of the type of woman, more the artistic appreciation of a beautiful body. Seeing the shadows and light play off one another, just to perfectly accentuate the delicate balance of curves and swells in a woman's body.
Maybe it's not that unheard of. It's probably an everyday occurance for somebody with an artistic background. Just to feel the aesthetic goodness in a thing. A situation, a setting, a perfect example of the female form. It's almost devoid of logic or reason. To just feel without the burden of conscious thought to hold you back. I didn't let on any of this to the person in question. It just sort of hit me all of a sudden. Like a freight train. Along the lines of: Fuck ME i think this is the most beautiful woman i've ever seen!. It's so hard to explain. The perfect blend of skin tone, light and frame. Bone structure, curves. They just all felt... right. Or something approximating perfection. It's not devoid of sexual attraction, far from it, but it feels separate to everything else.
Ok. Above is the blog i posted earlier. But it's not enough anymore. All that venting helped for about 20 minutes. Before another wave of shit tumbled into my path. Yet another straw on the camel's back. I've come to accept that i'm not exactly an ideal physical specimen of a man. Far from it. But still. Okay. Accepting that is fine. Shit, i'm having a hard time wording this without sounding like a bitter husk of humanity. I've accepted the fact that i'm not skinny. I'm fine with that. I'm relatively happy with my physical stats. Not that it makes much difference, but it's mostly about self-image. Your own perception of yourself. After my recent weight loss, i'm even happier with myself. But i only have a finite amount of resolve. There's only so many times i can listen to women commenting on how skinny, well-toned and muscular their man is.
See, i sound like an embittered old fart. I know it takes a lot for some guys to maintain the body they have. I'm sure it takes a lot of time and effort to achieve the ideal body. To quiet your internal sense of shame. But that's not really what i'm getting at. Due to my condition i can't lose weight (well it's extremely difficult) or create muscle mass. I'm not saying that if i was able to i would definitely have a super skinny, hunky body. But, it's sort of a kick in the nuts to the majority of men out there. This probably sounds ridiculous. Women have been dealing with this type of social competition for a long time now. Merely being judged on their physical appearance alone. Being treated differently depending on their physical attributes. Depending on how closely they resemble the traditional definition of beauty. And i suppose i'm saying this is starting to happen from the other perspective.
Hypothetical scenario. Two men are discussing the women they're involved with. Each guy, understandably, has pictures with his girlfriend on his phone. I don't know, set as their background or some such romantic crap. Suddenly both guys start to compare the size of their girlfriends. Start to point which one is skinnier. Which one has the best body. Basically showing off the physical attributes of their significant other and discussing which girl looks more attractive. Regardless of anything else: personality, intelligence, treating each individual like a piece of meat and comparing the resale value. Wow, sounds like those guys are really scummy dregs of humanity, eh? Completely disrespectful toward women in general, right? Almost misogynistic. Not treating women with the same respect as they would treat another man. A fuck you to the feminist movement.
I guarantee you that any woman witnessing this display would have something to say about it. Would almost certainly declare that an injustice was being perpetrated on the behalf of all women. I'm not saying that recognising beauty is inherently wrong. Kettle calling the pot black, posting this on a website dedicated to beauty in all it's forms. But it should be kept in it's place. It shouldn't filter into the public forum, comparing the physical attributes of every person and drawing conclusions based solely on that. In fact that's one of the main contention points about the fashion industry. When does skinny become too skinny? When does comparison become discrimination?
But. It's ok for women to do this about men? Regardless of personality or intelligence, grade men on their physical appearance? Post semi-nude pictures of their hot boyfriends and compare them. Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinion on what they find attractive, but to casually rate men on how fantastic they look in the company of other men, who can't live up to this standard. Seems a little like comparing supermodels to the uggoes at the local shop. Little callous, uncouth and derisive, don't ya think. I'm sorry but that just seems wrong to me. That seems unfair and unjust. Maybe i'm just overreacting today, of all days. Maybe my bad mood today has made me blow all things out of proportion. It's been a long, tortuous day for me. I've had an endless barrage of misery today. More general droopiness. Overthinking things as usual. Becoming lost in the death spiral again. Why so soon? Why so quietly? Why so miserably? Why so lonely? Why so soon? And so on, and so forth, ad infinum.
Sigh i need something to block all this out for more than a few hours at a time. Red hot, white hot rage. So much of it. Noone to share it with. To share the remainder of my life with. Physically, mentally or emotionally. Except my blog file...
Okay. More shite. To complain about. People. Sometimes i hate people. People, in general. And i think it stems from jealousy. Yeah, i can admit it, i'm jealous of people. Most of the time it's harmless, almost an incentive to keep trying to find what i'm looking for. But sometimes it isn't. Sometimes hearing about peoples' happy memories makes me upset. Hearing about peoples' fun-filled teens and twenties, makes me want to scream with frustration. With anger. And in the words of Yoda, anger leads to hate, leads to suffering. I start to spiral downward again. Round and around. I storm out of what i'm doing, who i'm talking to. Try to ignore it, but i can't look away. Think that, hey, maybe it won't affect me today. But it always does. I mean, come on. Losing your virginity at 18. How is that seen as being a late-bloomer?! Tell me how that fulfils the criteria of late?
I mean, is the social norm so skewed that having sex before that time is regular for most people? I don't see how. I don't see how people can have the confidence that early. I was out of action from the time i was 12, until i was 15. The intervening years were a maelstrom of self-loathing, depression and social withdrawal. By the time i was 18, i was borderline suicidal. From then til now hasn't been much different. I've never been comfortable enough with myself, mentally, to even be able to approach a woman for friendship, never mind a sexual relationship, or the even slimmer prospect of a romantic one. I've never had the nerve to call over a girl who i know by name. How fucking insane is that?! The very thought of pronouncing a girl's name in her presence, comes to a roadblock. How can i possibly ever hope to make a girl giggle at a terrible joke? And women don't respond to shy men. Not any women i know.
Blending in because of crippling anxiety is the only thing i know how to do. Try and fit in with the furniture whenever i go out. Head lowered, avoiding the possibly of eye contact. What if they think i'm staring at them. Undressing them with my eyes? What if she looks back? What if she waves. And i wave back. And there's someone behind me waving at her? No, best keep my head down. I wonder what state Roland's damn Tower is in now. Leave the other guys to talk to her, she'd be happier talking to them anyway. That's the type of shit that runs through my head. What if she doesn't hear me? What if she doesn't understand what i'm saying? What if she mistakes my smile for a creepy leer? Who am i kidding, she won't look at my face. No point. Might as well go back home, safety in isolation. What if she has a boyfriend, and he comes over while i'm trying to speak? And he kisses her on the cheek. And i have to quickly leave because i have something in my eye.
I don't understand how it's possible to miss what you've never had. I don't understand how that's fair. Can you be addicted to something you've never had? All i know is that the empty vacuum isn't filling. It's not cutting it anymore. The vacuum is getting bigger. Every story i hear about sexual conquest, wild nights, the best sexual experience ever had, i die a little more inside. The vacuum grows. Encompasses a little more. The last shreds of self esteem are being torn out. One by one. The worthlessness grows. The self-esteem napkin is running out. 95% of it has been used for spitballs in a straw. The last remnants are waiting to be ripped away, chewed up and spat out, stuck to the neck of someone's orgasm with their true love. That's a shit analogy, but you know what i mean. I like joking about it. I like hearing ridiculous sex things, in a joking manner. But when people talk about tantric sex with their lifelong partner i can't handle it. It's too damn depressing.
Hearing about someone sleeping with partners, trying to find the perfect one, until, at last, they found the right person, the person they love and can hold forever, the person that they couldn't imagine life without, makes me want to cry. Makes me want to close my eyes and not open them again. Makes me want to slam my head into a wall, just to stop the sense of sadness from progressing any further. Just to take a break. I know that people, in general, don't want to keep happiness to themselves. They want to scream it and shout it from the rooftops. That the world is good! Love exists! I've found it! You can too!! I love him/her with all my heart and he/she loves me back. I'm going to be happy for the rest of my long life!
That's good for you, yeah, but what about me? What about the tonne of shit i'm buried up to my neck in? What about the fact that most people never find that? What about the fact that i would love nothing more than to find that myself, but know, deep down i never will? Happiness is happiness, but please don't scream it from every rooftop, every day. Sometimes it's just too hard to take. Sometimes it just tears other peoples' emotions to shreds. I know it's difficult to contain all your joy, but please try. The majority of other people are miserable, and having somebody proclaiming their joy is like salt in the wound. It's like biting into a lime, when you think it's a lemon. The bitterness you find is too staggering to deal with.
So i remove myself from these situations when i can. The effects aren't worth it. The repurcussions are too horrible to deal with. Another thing i CAN NOT STAND, is people complaining about what they have. Complaining that they haven't had sex in a week? Get the fuck over yourself. A fucking week?! Oh you poor bastard (dripping with sardonicism). A whole week?! Well gee-wiz, that's quite a dry spell you're going through there. Give me a fucking break. And if the person you're dating is intolerably cute, and you look like such a lovely couple together, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. And please. PLEASE! Don't inform everyone about your current sex life in a public way. If you cum into someone's ass, i don't particularly want to hear that. I don't really want to be reminded of how big a fucking loser i am, every second of every day. Just the regular, half the time i spend prostrating myself is enough. If you're going to joke about it, go right ahead, but don't talk about lovey-dovey happiness ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Don't talk about how sex with someone you love, because you've found it, is the most magical experience in existence. You're a lucky fucker, not everyone else is. Kthnx.
Bragging about the joyous times you're having is annoying. I know it's childish and petty and snide of me to even write any of this but i'm angry right now. Very fucking angry. And i'm venting. I fucking hate a lot of stuff. A lot of my energy is taken up by hatred. But i'm trying to change that. I don't get angry or pissed off at the people i should most of the time. I don't vent my anger. I let it fester for a long time, which eventually leads to fermentation of grievances into the liquid we all know and love as: depression.
Yes, the joys of depression. The wanting to bawl your eyes out and tear your skin off at the same time. The wanting to physically cut out your own fat because you hate your body so much it hurts sometimes. The feeling of coldness that comes when you see someone you like, happy with somebody else. The coldness becomes numbness and the numbness becomes anguish, and the anguish becomes sadness, and the sadness becomes self-harming tendencies. That's as far as i've gotten, anyway. The joyous fucking cycle. The coldness eventually comes from every aspect of you life. You feel like bawling and tearing your skin off to warm up again. Get rid of the rising coldness. Your unhappiness about your appearance is causing another cold front to join what's already happening. Where does it end? When the coldness reaches critical mass? The balloon fills. And has nothing to do but burst.
Physically is a different story entirely. I'll never be comfortable with my physical self. Never, in any way. So tha is happening anyway. On top of things. My physical fate is sealed. I know that much. Doesn't make it any easier though. Accepting the grim truth doesn't fix anything. If anything it makes it harder. It paints everything in a light of apathy. It drains the energy you might have once had. It makes ever slimmer the possibility of finding any semblance of a relationship, before you buy the farm. Mostly, it's just sad. Just unparalleled sadness, most of the time. The meds are still working, but not in as effective a way. This is the bad side coming out again. The painfully honest, miserable side. Excuse the ramblings, as a result.
But just, sometimes, it seems that people come into chat, specifically to brag about how fantastic their life is. It's probably a ridiculous and unfounded feeling, but it's one i get nonetheless. If somebody comes in and talks about how great their life is going, it's a bit of a kick in the face. But, by far, what i can't abide the most, is people who complain when they have nothing to complain about. Complaining because your normal perfect life has a small blip is infuriating. Because your hair looks a tad messy and your dream boy/girlfriend might utter a five second criticism after you've enjoyed each others company for 30 seconds less than normal. That type of shit. Or because you get 32 comments on your blog instead of 40. Get some real problems please. Or shut the fuck up. Enjoy your beauty, health and sexual lifestyle.
Another thing, not part of the rant, is that i'm finding it a little easier to talk about things. The sexual side of things. Hell, i've even started expressing opinions on what gets my motor running, so to speak. Casual conversation, in that... um... "department", is a little easier now. I don't really have any qualms about admitting if i think something is sexy or not, regardless of the way it makes me look.
Earlier today i had an epiphany. For the first real time i can recall i appreciated beauty. In a completely new way. It was a sexual attraction, yes, but i also saw, for use of a better word, beauty. I won't say who it was, haha, that'd be a little embarrassing, but it did happen earlier today. Just something abstract, i suppose, the concept of beauty. Different to the normal type of feeling that comes into my head. Not the yeah, look at the tits on her type of thing, more than that. Appreciating the inherent beauty in a woman. Regardless of the type of woman, more the artistic appreciation of a beautiful body. Seeing the shadows and light play off one another, just to perfectly accentuate the delicate balance of curves and swells in a woman's body.
Maybe it's not that unheard of. It's probably an everyday occurance for somebody with an artistic background. Just to feel the aesthetic goodness in a thing. A situation, a setting, a perfect example of the female form. It's almost devoid of logic or reason. To just feel without the burden of conscious thought to hold you back. I didn't let on any of this to the person in question. It just sort of hit me all of a sudden. Like a freight train. Along the lines of: Fuck ME i think this is the most beautiful woman i've ever seen!. It's so hard to explain. The perfect blend of skin tone, light and frame. Bone structure, curves. They just all felt... right. Or something approximating perfection. It's not devoid of sexual attraction, far from it, but it feels separate to everything else.
Ok. Above is the blog i posted earlier. But it's not enough anymore. All that venting helped for about 20 minutes. Before another wave of shit tumbled into my path. Yet another straw on the camel's back. I've come to accept that i'm not exactly an ideal physical specimen of a man. Far from it. But still. Okay. Accepting that is fine. Shit, i'm having a hard time wording this without sounding like a bitter husk of humanity. I've accepted the fact that i'm not skinny. I'm fine with that. I'm relatively happy with my physical stats. Not that it makes much difference, but it's mostly about self-image. Your own perception of yourself. After my recent weight loss, i'm even happier with myself. But i only have a finite amount of resolve. There's only so many times i can listen to women commenting on how skinny, well-toned and muscular their man is.
See, i sound like an embittered old fart. I know it takes a lot for some guys to maintain the body they have. I'm sure it takes a lot of time and effort to achieve the ideal body. To quiet your internal sense of shame. But that's not really what i'm getting at. Due to my condition i can't lose weight (well it's extremely difficult) or create muscle mass. I'm not saying that if i was able to i would definitely have a super skinny, hunky body. But, it's sort of a kick in the nuts to the majority of men out there. This probably sounds ridiculous. Women have been dealing with this type of social competition for a long time now. Merely being judged on their physical appearance alone. Being treated differently depending on their physical attributes. Depending on how closely they resemble the traditional definition of beauty. And i suppose i'm saying this is starting to happen from the other perspective.
Hypothetical scenario. Two men are discussing the women they're involved with. Each guy, understandably, has pictures with his girlfriend on his phone. I don't know, set as their background or some such romantic crap. Suddenly both guys start to compare the size of their girlfriends. Start to point which one is skinnier. Which one has the best body. Basically showing off the physical attributes of their significant other and discussing which girl looks more attractive. Regardless of anything else: personality, intelligence, treating each individual like a piece of meat and comparing the resale value. Wow, sounds like those guys are really scummy dregs of humanity, eh? Completely disrespectful toward women in general, right? Almost misogynistic. Not treating women with the same respect as they would treat another man. A fuck you to the feminist movement.
I guarantee you that any woman witnessing this display would have something to say about it. Would almost certainly declare that an injustice was being perpetrated on the behalf of all women. I'm not saying that recognising beauty is inherently wrong. Kettle calling the pot black, posting this on a website dedicated to beauty in all it's forms. But it should be kept in it's place. It shouldn't filter into the public forum, comparing the physical attributes of every person and drawing conclusions based solely on that. In fact that's one of the main contention points about the fashion industry. When does skinny become too skinny? When does comparison become discrimination?
But. It's ok for women to do this about men? Regardless of personality or intelligence, grade men on their physical appearance? Post semi-nude pictures of their hot boyfriends and compare them. Of course everyone is entitled to their own opinion on what they find attractive, but to casually rate men on how fantastic they look in the company of other men, who can't live up to this standard. Seems a little like comparing supermodels to the uggoes at the local shop. Little callous, uncouth and derisive, don't ya think. I'm sorry but that just seems wrong to me. That seems unfair and unjust. Maybe i'm just overreacting today, of all days. Maybe my bad mood today has made me blow all things out of proportion. It's been a long, tortuous day for me. I've had an endless barrage of misery today. More general droopiness. Overthinking things as usual. Becoming lost in the death spiral again. Why so soon? Why so quietly? Why so miserably? Why so lonely? Why so soon? And so on, and so forth, ad infinum.
Sigh i need something to block all this out for more than a few hours at a time. Red hot, white hot rage. So much of it. Noone to share it with. To share the remainder of my life with. Physically, mentally or emotionally. Except my blog file...
As soon as I heard that, I thought 'Fuck that! There are already too many people on this planet, and still plenty of people 'securing' the next generation as it is, and I don't even want kids'. That just comes down to me knowing that I don't want kids of my own, though, but it's a process we probably go through hundreds of times a day thanks to advertising for ''shit we don't need''.
What sCent has written seems true to me. You need a nice balance of now, past and future, with the emphasis on the now, and some emotional fish thrown in, to really understand what's going on within and without ourselves.
Oh yeah, and
FUCK EVERYONE ELSE!!!