Monday, October 31, 2011

Chapter 33: If anything....

I haven’t been in this emotional state for years. The state where your own house feels alien and your bed room, once your sanctuary suddenly feels so fragile and temporary. Emotions are charged but not cluttered. My mind is queenly selfish; all I can think about is myself right now. I cannot succeed at life. Why do things when others can do them better? Why go on with school when grades are suffering and may never get better? Why go to work when all one does is spend the money again? School is killing me. It’s going to destroy my life. I can’t do it. I’m failing.
This feeling of being alien in your own home I mentioned happens when time drifts into nonexistence and you can’t—and won’t—count it any more. It doesn’t matter because you made your mind: All these questions don’t need to be answered because it’s going to end. YOU are going to end it. Why try and cheer up when it’s going to come back? This lose, failure, destruction, lameness…it’s all going to come back and drag you back down. You spend more time down than anything else. No one is thinking of you  (lack of internet social interactivity is proof enough), no one is texting you, calling you, needing you…You are a waste of space on this earth, getting bad grades. It’s time to leave. You will never have the love you want, the man of your dreams. Your depression is too strong for you. For me. I can’t stand it. What good am I? I had plans, but it’s all determined by this stupid school. They killed my dreams and hope. I have nothing left.
Bad grades cannot be fixed, parents who despise and will never respect you are just that. The only thing you have is yourself and you are letting you down. You cannot fix any of this. Nothing is good any more. It never was, I was just under the illusion it was.
Why don’t I do it now? Not because I secretly think it will get better, I know it won’t. Or if it does, it just gets worse again. What do I have to live for? Nothing. I don’t do it because I’m afraid. Not of the Afterlife, just afraid. I could do it. I know so many simple ways. But I’m too much of a coward to take the cowards way out.
I am nothing. I am an empty shell with nothing left to give. I gave and gave and gave. I helped other people, inspired them to do things, worked for them, slaved for them, bowed under their feet, been used and abused by them. What have I gotten back? Plans of nothingness and bad grades to ruin my life. I’m a stranger now on this planet. I want to go home.    
If anything, dear God, let me dance the Macabre tonight. Please. 

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