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2002-12-17 19:51:09 ET I hadn’t feel so fucking lame and despicable since so long, almost half year ago... How was your day? Considering I wanted to suicide in the morning, I’m fine... please tell me you’ve at least found better sarcasm than this. I just realized to another level that I’m useless. Why? Because for much that I could (imaging that I may do something useful) do something good at certain areas that comprehend any human action, I can’t seem to proceed with it because of other issues that drag me back... and how can I pass through it? Fuck, I don’t know. I’m just really tired of it. So I’m either really really really stupid and useless like the most dirty fucking piece of shit in the half of the road of others. Yes, so in the morning due to this certain issue I felt (still feeling) so fucking mediocre and miserable, my mind started thinking a hundred of things, such things no one would care or like, unless it was a high level philosopher boring trying to find something new in this miserable mind mine. I just left so such of my way of seeing things... I’m not so sure of seeing again a person as a person but another living being, another creature, another thing, like just something else, why, and specially me of course. I really wanted just to avoid life, wanted to die, to disappear, to vanish, or never have been existed, I’m just useless, I can barely interfere with other’s lives ...and yet not doing something as good as I wish I could. I know all this ranting will sound just more stupid knowing the fact that “come on, like if you were the only motherfucker who feels down”, yes, I know, so as I said, I thought on so many things, I think I could easily predict like 3 different responses of people about this, I got to one point in which I almost felt I could see nature of existence from a singular system of ordinate functions we sometimes just call coincidence. It’s sad, just sadness, sad, how for much I could possibly revolute knowledge of many things it wouldn’t be useful if I first can’t fit in the society of it, irony. I could just give more and more ranting, by as time passes by I keep forgetting and procrastinating the woe so it keep getting bigger and bigger, more painfully and sadder. For now I can’t seem to recall much of the mental facts I had since then, all of that chaos and crying struggles for asking to be better, to “fit” somewhere, to live pleasantly with the hope the maybe someday it will be ok. |
