When I started this blog I was psyched and was pretty adamant on writing what the night before had been like. Truth is... these past nights have been what I would imagine Limbo is like. A string of consecutive nights feeling numb and not thinking of anything in particular. Trying to pretend I don't exist so I wouldn't have to come on here and write what I was feeling because the truth is... I don't feel anything anymore. I try really hard everyday to feel all the great feelings I read in books, see in movies and on people's faces as I walk the street. But I don't feel any of those beautiful feelings. All I feel is anger. I am angry at the world... but mostly at myself. I am angry at myself because I let myself get caught in a loop. I'm not doing so well but none of you would ever tell that inside I'm pretty much dead. The smiles, the jokes, the laughing... all masks cleverly crafted to keep people from peeling at me like an onion. Eventually there'd be nothing left to uncover. What would happen then? Would I come to realize some self and life changing truth? Or would I just disappear and all my layers be thrown in the garbage, abandoned... spoiled and rotting. Forgotten.
This particular night was unsettling... had a huge fight with my mother because she has this innate ability to drive me insane! It wouldn't have been Easter or whatever this day is about for Catholics without her getting me all worked up and pissed off. She is the ultimate drama queen. She ruined a perfectly good dinner. Now everyone has retired to their rooms for the night and I am in my room listening to some Kristin Hersh. She's awesome! She kicks ass! I wish I was more like her. I started this blog trying to in some way take back who I am but the truth is each night I want to be someone else. Each night I lose a little piece of myself because each night I realize I am not myself. I am not anyone. I am just a speck of dust stuck in some remote corner of the universe. Forgotten. Swept under some dusty old rug. This night won't be any different from any other night. No one will call me. I'll be surfing the web randomly. I won't smile. I won't laugh. I won't cry. I won't feel sorry for anyone. I will just be this helpless zombie waiting for someone to put a bullet to my brain and end this meaningless existence. I fear there is no more hope left for me to hold on to. I would usually end a post with the tiniest hope... a small word like "maybe" or "someday" or "soon" or "I'll wait". Because they always say that good things come to those who wait. But fuck me! I've been waiting my whole life and nothing good ever came... quite the contrary! Only sadness, sorrow, bitterness, anger... And now I'm this thing, this walking-talking zombie with no feelings, no hope, no tomorrow. The only thing keeping me remotely human are the sighs that come out from time to time. Even the beautiful man I saw that one time a few weeks ago hasn't brought me any comfort. The thought of him just makes me feel even more hopeless and helpless... who in their right mind would ever love a zombie such as I am?
Well... I guess you know what tomorrow will be like. Another night of self-pity and darkness.
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