Willfully Blind

I stare at nothing. It has become second nature, a habit that I am unwilling to break. See, it gives me comfort knowing that the thing I stare at has no judgement towards me, no expectations. If I am depressed, I stare at a simple object. My concentration is completely directed at it. My mind is nowhere else. And when I feel so overwhelmed by my surroundings, I just close my eyes and block out all sounds.

I thought this whole depression phase was over. It is supposed to end. It happens to every teenager. I know this. I repeat this. It has a reason to occur in childhood, for the changes in the child's mind creates spaces that are soon filled with confusion and thus depression. So why is it happening again? I don't want to be like this. It would be simple to change, but I'm tired.

I sleep all the time. I get home from school and go to bed. My mom says that it's iron deficiency. I say that I'm tired. Of what? Well that would be the reason for this whole thing.

Yesterday night my father drank enough liquid courage to ask me why I hate him. I didn't know what to say because I never admitted to myself that I hated my father. He kept telling me that he was a good parent because he always gave me enough room. He told me that I only hated him because I was looking for someone to hate. He said his only fault was spending more of his time caring about my brother than me. He told me I have anger problems and that I just had to accept the fact that he was an asshole. I told him that he didn't have to be an asshole, it's not something to be proud of, something to blame your parenting problems on. But, everything I said did not register. I told him that I could never talk to him because he was only open to conversation when he is drunk. I told him that we could talk in the morning when he was sober. He took it as an insult and said something like "that was an awful thing to say", walking away and telling me that I was a spoiled brat. He cried during all this. I cannot tell if he remembers now. Everything was back to normal in the morning. I probably would have thought that I dreamt the whole thing if I hadn't of woken up to the sounds of my dad puking his guts out in the hotel toilet. I'm not sure if I want to talk about it in front of anyone in my family, I might cry or something stupid. I hate that I have a reason now to hate him. Before it was just small things, building up one by one. I guess those small things just got sick of being ignored.

The sad thing is that I probably hate my father more now. And you have no idea how much that hurt me to write.

I'm sad, and I don't want to be.  

I've Got a Creepy Feeling About All This

The concept of change hits you like a breaking ball. It rips through your body and shocks you to your core. There are changes to make the world better. Changes in medicine, education, laws and most importantly: our way of thinking. Sometimes these changes will happen fast and be accepted immediately, but others will only happen though determination and time. One day I feel that I will become like my parents. I will hate the changes to the traditional world in which I was raised because it will signify the loss of my history. Will I hate people who are different than what I consider normal?

It is true, that everyone wants to be remembered. But, who wants to remember a world where people were slaves to their own assumptions of their own superiority, their own definitions of freedom, of what is morally right or wrong. Our language is not universal. We are just animals with the mindset that what we say is definite. That what we do can always be justified by our means. That what we write is read. That what we envision is pictured the same in every reader's mind. We have created a glass dome, in which we are safe from outside influences. In which we are the superior ones. And yet, a spider crawls into the dome and makes a grown man break into a cold sweat. 

we lie to ourselves on a daily basis. willful blindness helps us in our sad plight. let us all follow the leader. let us all deny our abilities. let us all ignore the warnings from our aching limbs. let us all destroy ALL compassion. let us unite in hatred, dance in the darkness, spill the blood, drink the sorrow, bask in our greatness, smile at the wars, defend the death, eat the flesh, deny the facts, swallow the shit, burst with pleasure, break the rebels, follow the leader, follow the rules, follow what is best, we are all tools

we are no longer human.

COMPASSION, DENIED

Please Don't Bring Me Down

I have feelings... tons of feelings.

Ones that well up and burst,

others that I suppress only to hold onto them as long as possible.

I find myself only attracted to complete strangers.

An unhealthy habit. I know. 

Maybe I love too easily, attraction is a second. Love immediately after.

I feel in love with a guy who smiled at me. I'm riding a streetcar named love :)

No wonder I have so much trouble talking to people.

I'm insecure, outside, inside, every side. 

I'm a tired person. 

I'm tired of trying to hide from fuck heads and their fuck-headed comments.

People who can't understand their own words. 

I'm not made of metal. Your sticks and stones will break my bones. I shatter. I'm glass. Words can hurt me. They will always do damage. 

So why don't you stop wondering why I'm not talking to you anymore? 

If you put this much thought into what you say, then what you said...

I don't what to think about you anymore... because it only reminds me of what you said.

No one ever made fun of my flaws before you. I saw them. Now I think that everyone else sees them too. Are you happy now??? ARE YOU HAPPY??? You didn't know me. 

But you thought you saw me. 

I've realized who my true friends are, I've got one back ;) I'm closer to others and I'm just glad that you never got close enough to do damage. With a knife perhaps?

I heard stories and I decided to form my own opinion. 

You are a sad, sad boy who has no idea how to make friends. 

Me. I'm a loner. I don't hurt anyone.