While everyone's at work, I sit here listening to the lulling hum of the computer fan as I try to remember reasons to continue on. It's the unlikely hidden agendas and continual fascination in the disasterous ending to certain situations in my life that has me gripped so tight right now. But running a close 2nd place is the overwhelming feeling of not mattering to anyone at all. I've been here so many times now, but it's a place that I will never get used to. This incapability of feeling at all adaquate has been the death of many a great thing, so I just come to expect the worst since that is the majority of what I've experienced. Everyone else will remain a constant threat to me, as I put myself in dead last to every single person alive; especially girls. I have nothing to offer other than parroted expressions of how I've seen things done before, but rarely with kind emotion behind anything that I do. In the past, emotion has thrown me right into the epicenter of heartbreak, so in my mind, kindly emotion=scary/bad. I concoct all these things in my head like some kind of fucked up soup, but for a few split seconds I think I could be dead wrong in my thinking; that my depression is nothing but a self-destructive liar. Unfortunately, emotion tends to beat the hell out of logic and I end up suffocating the healthy growth of good things in my life. I don't know. Why would someone stay with dead last? To promote themselves? Emotional insurance? An almost equal amount of low self-esteem? It has to be one of those. What I do know is that I'm so just like the rest of the people that feel almost exactly the way I do and my case isn't any more unique or deep, I'm as equally pathetic as anyone else. I also know that I hate myself more than anyone, and in fact, I am the only person I hate. I'm not special or gifted or even interesting, so why bother.
Mental Tornados
3:44 p.m.//10.05.04
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