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Extraordinarly Awesome Chronicles of Ultima
My Journal. I proly won't write in this at all.
Loser, Failure, Incapable of doing a single thing right
'You need to go to therapy to find out what the ******** wrong with you!' The cruelest thing anyone could have said to me...this single line has hurt me to the point of breaking, with this, she has wounded me with a wound that can not be healed. Why did she not simply say 'I'm breaking up with you.' or something of that sort? Why did she have to take what hurts me the most, and stab it right into my gut? I thought, naively, that I had finally found someone that understood me, that would accept me for who I am, that would want me, someone who could love me for once. But that proves to be a falsity, I really am alone in this world, no one understands, no one accepts, there is no one like me. This world has never been a happy place for me, now it is shown, once again, that maybe I do not even belong here. I have often pondered on that, could it be true, am I too sensitive to stand this world? Or too evil to live amongst its inhabitants. The truth is, I do not know what is wrong with me either, and I highly doubt I ever will, but I have accepted myself that way, why can I not be accepted by another, am I just so horrible...In any case, I will try and do what she requested, I will attend therapeutic sessions, though I doubt they will do much of anything, I will try...for her. I will do what she wishes to...to reconcile maybe, I do not know if I can aptly describe it honestly, just as I can not ever aptly describe how I feel, what happens within the confines of my mad mind. Were the opportunity to appear to stop these things, would I take it? I do not honestly know that answer. It would surely make those around me much happier...but it would make me, well...not me, this is who I am, why can I not find acceptance? Why can even I not understand it? Should I not be able to understand my own mine? What is wrong with me? Why have I been born like this? Why have I not been born with the ability to make those I love happy? Why do I fall so shortly at every endeavor? Why do I have no skill-set whatsoever with which to find at least a job to help raise money, to bring support at the very least? Why do every one of my abilities fall short of being good enough for anyone? What am I good at? Playing video games, that's what, where is that gonna get me, when I am thrust into the real world, where will I begin, so many stresses and pressures, I am so befuddled, and yet you share these same problems, but it seems you take these on with ease. You are so much more than me, please, do not let me drag you down even a single millimeter, it would not be fair to you or the future family you plan to have. Do you really want to have children who will know their father is a failure and always will be? Children who might even share the same corruption as me? I would not wish that fate on anybody...they least of all deserve it. So what is wrong with me? I suppose only God knows for He did create me, and yet, it feels wrong for me to even say his name, like I am some hideous, unholy beast that does not deserve the light. But I am scared of the darkness...I believe with all my heart that I will perish in Hell, or whatever equivalent awaits me when I die, I accept it, and yet I fear it...but there is no turning back for me, I have done too many wrongs to ever make up for them. Perhaps my mind is more confused than even I know, perhaps none at all? That is a slim chance, but a chance. Although, these breakdowns I have, where I cry myself to the point of maniacal laughter, so filled with grief that my body can not be controlled by my own mind, a voice that constantly kicks me when I am down, not allowing me to get up, but I do not give up. Why not? It would be easier...I myself do not know why...I do not purposefully fight against it, it is a subconscious action. All these thoughts, swirling in my head...too fast to make sense of them, too many to glimpse, and so they simply flutter by, in a constant whirlwind around my brain. I feel the need to carve her words into my skin...I constantly feel the need to bring self harm, but something stops me, my mind forces me to stop, but again, it is not a conscious action, it is almost as if someone else is holding me back, a presence, another force, another entity within or without, I do not know. I doubt this makes much sense to anyone but me, but I can only hope, that is all I can ever do. This is only a small part, but maybe now, someone can understand...just a little.





UltimaOneWingedAngel
Community Member
UltimaOneWingedAngel
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  • 06/24/12 to 06/17/12 (1)

  • User Comments: [1]
    UltimaOneWingedAngel
    Community Member





    Fri Jun 22, 2012 @ 11:52am


    Why is writing so preferable when I am saddened? Why does it come so easily only then? Why can I not be happy and write within the same time span? Why is that such an impossibility? Why do even my greatest works seem stale compared to others? Why does my inadequacy frustrate me so? So many questions, never any answers my dear Jason, and that, that is exactly how the world works, poor child. Am I going insane? Is my mind just playing tricks on me? Do I want to be insane? Is anything real? Should I be locked away?...Am I already? No, no, I believe the world around me is quite real...but I suppose it always seems that way...if only there were a sure way to know? Maybe these are memories? Why was I even born? A better soul could have been born in my place...or a worse one...worse than me? Yes, worse, it is possible...what a scary thought. Why can I only project my feelings through the written word, but even then, it does not seem I can do so accurately enough? No, someone would have to feel this to know...


    User Comments: [1]
     
     
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