#6

Just a quick note: because most of the stuff I post here was written weeks/months before I posted it, there is some of it that I no longer identify with. I initially started this blog mostly for myself as a means of keeping all the stuff I write in one place, because I have a tendency to lose stuff I've written. I generally post this stuff as I find it in boxes, notebooks, my hard drive, loose groups of paper, etc., so a lot of what you read here might not necessarily reflect what I'm going through or how I'm feeling at the time that I post it.


Tuesday, June 8, 2010

I woke up earlier than I planned this afternoon but when I tried to go back to sleep I was hit with a panic attack and I started to cry uncontrollably. The worst part is what brought the panic attack on.

I started to think about what she said yesterday, about falling for him when they were in that play together in high school. Even thinking about it right now puts a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat - and he is someone I consider a friend... or did, anyway. The more I think about him, the more he seems like a sociopath, and the more I wonder how she could ever feel anything for him. She's not an idiot - she should be able to see through him. From all that I've seen of him while he's in the public sphere, I can't imagine he would have been in any way genuine with her - he would have put up his usual facade and covered himself in a sickening sheen of fake charm and sensitivity, and then proceeded to talk about himself at length, feigning interest in what she was saying until it was his turn to talk again. And how could she not see through that? How could she not see him for what he is? How could she fall for him and not for me?

And finally, it comes to what this has been about the whole time - me. It's always about me. I know that, I hate it, and yet I refuse to do anything about it. I feel like I'm better than him in some way, like she has so much more of a reason to choose me if she already chose him once, but I don't know if that's true. I don't know what I have to offer. Clearly we're both completely self-involved, but at least he has the confidence and motivation to actually do something productive - most of the time I'd rather just get high and feel sorry for myself. And maybe that's what scares me most of all. It's not the fact that she didn't fall for me - it's the fact that she was probably right in falling for him instead.


Monday, January 11, 2010

I stand screaming into the void in an ultimately futile attempt to keep this existential crisis at bay. I remember when I thought it was a sin to hate, when I would try to run at the earliest sign of rage that welled up within me. My efforts to run from anger usually ended in failure (as do most of my endeavors) and recently I have stopped running altogether. I have learned to embrace my hatred, not necessarily as a means of productivity, but rather because it distracts me from the apparent pointlessness of life. Depression and joy also help distract me, though the former is too painful (and often leads me to nihilism) while the latter occurs too seldom to be of any reliance. Anger, even when it is undirected, helps time pass faster; seething gets me through the day with little to no heartache. It is exhausting, certainly, but the alternatives are either too hard to come by or else are more painful and draining than rage. And should the opportunity present itself, my hatred might be focused and used, if not always to bring about general change, at least as a means of releasing whatever pent-up aggression, violence, and emotion I carry around with me on a day to day basis. Another benefit to anger is that it is pure. Other emotions have the ability to cloud my judgment, to make me say things I don't mean, to cause me to second-guess myself, or to feel the most loathsome of all emotions - self-pity. Anger is cold, logical, calculated, and generally justifiable. I have never thought of taking an action while angry that didn't later seem to make perfect sense, even if that action was violent or otherwise hurtful. I have meant everything I have said and done in anger, even if I denied my intentions after the fact. Beauty and love are not truth. They can be truthful, but they are not truth itself. Anger alone is the sole possessor of truth and vengeance is the only pure form of justice. I am in the process of releasing the chokehold that love has me in because I see now that vindication is the true path to nirvana; vindication is far more powerful and effective than love could ever hope to be. Love is messy and leaves a person open for pain. Hatred and vindication burn clean and guard a person from external pain.


I do not want this need for love.