Reality sucks. Today I don't wanna be in it, today I flee to Azeroth, my favourite of worlds. I'm not procrastinating, I'm running away from this ugly world where I have to pretend that I eat and sleep at night just to keep the vultures off my back. They are those who say they care, but all they do is whining and trying to solve a problem I'm no longer interested in solving.
I also dedicate this day to drinking lots of tea, listening to Abney Park's wonderful music and lots and lots of nicotine and I'm not gonna eat anything. Yeah, I'm the picture of health and don't argue with me. I just don't care anymore, I'm tired of trying and failing and trying and failing again and again and again. It's got nothing to do with inability anymore, now it's just resignation. I'm so tired of living, but don't worry, I will survive, I always do. I have no suicide plans and I'm not just saying that to make you guys worry a tad bit less - I'm saying it because it's true. I don't wanna kill myself. I wanna die, but I don't wanna go through that hazzle. Surviving a genuin suicide attempt just makes things so much worse, makes me feel like an even bigger failure. That I know all about.
Now all I do is fantasising about it, thinking of different methods than those I've already tried, with no intention of trying them out. It's just a fantasy, we all have those. Maybe most people's fantasies are less morbid than mine, maybe not. On Flashback.se I'm not the only one with twisted fantasies at least, that's for sure. But unfortunately I haven't yet found anyone with worse fantasies... yeah I'm kinda fucked up like that. But of course most of them will never ever come true, while some of them might.
I've been walking on the thin line between good and evil for quite some time now, but lately I've been walking further from the light side and closer to the dark side. And I mean, really dark messed up shit. I won't discuss this further on the blog, it's way to private for public exploitation.
The guy I met online and then in real life this Saturday, the one who fucked me so damn good I could hardly believe it - is now texting me every fucking day and today he said his mother's about to die. He wants me to come visit him in Visby without my cigarettes cause he really hates that I'm smoking. I don't wanna go there, I don't care about his feelings or dying mother. It's actually nothing to do with the cigarettes, it's the whole needyness that's annoying. Trying to figure out if I'm gonna dump my awesome Master cause he's too damn clingy. Maybe I can find another one, perhaps with less annoying emotions?
I'm tired of pretending I care about people. Sure I can understand a lot of things to some degree, and sometimes even imagine myself in their situation - but I don't care. I just don't. I don't know if my much more prominent lack of sympathy and morals has anything to do with the things I've been through, don't know if I'm that kind of person who starts hurting people beacuse I've got hurt or if it's something else going on. I seem to start enjoying making people hurt. People who don't deserve that at all, normal kind people who just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm afraid of what I'm becoming and at the same time I like it. Maybe I just want to take control for once in my life and I'm too fucked up to think of a better, more satisfying way.
I dumped him. I don't wanna feel obligated to a stranger. It felt so good to say "fuck it, I don't care", can't stop smiling. Jesus christ! What's wrong with this guy? I've insulted him like ten times and he still won't fuck off. Jeez! He says I should grow up and that I'm mean. Yeah I'm fucking mean to tell him he is needy and annoying when his mother is dying, but I just don't want him hanging around my ankles like a fucking cry-baby. He's the one who should grow up, I'm not his psychiatrist. I don't wanna be anybody's psychiatrist.
Stumbled upon a thread on Flashback that said "Is there any organized groups for misanthropes?" It made me laugh real hard. I'm laughing more now, it's good. The simpliest little thing can make me cackle for minutes. It feels really liberating between all that self-hate, anxiety and rage.
My hands are so cold I'm losing mobility and it's hard to write. Just wanna see just how cold they can get, but they're already room-temperatured, so I guess I reached some kind of limit there.
INSIDE OUT
Changes interrupted
by toxic thoughts
I will damn this life
unfulfilled and speechless
This war I can never win
torn between solace and insanity
it forces me to the other side
among those I hate
Through the pain of starvation
I will stop making excuses
there's no use in pretending
it's as good as it's gonna get
It's gonna get louder
and it's already uncontrollable
and I know behind the darkness
lies a deeper monstrosity
Solace = lindring (in case someone's wondering)
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