What sort of creature have I become, so wont for seclusion? Those that I eagerly called friends, I now renounce. I simply don't feel the need or desire to interact anymore. My soul really does not benefit from their tenderness. They do not understand me, and I don't wish to pretend that they do. I'm much more content on my own than with a cheap excuse for friendship. It's not anyone's fault, for I know these people have pure intentions. I'm simply insufferable and have standards that most cannot live up to. I won't blame myself, yet I know it is from my own soul that the discrepancy stems.
And, I don't think, I can love anymore.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Thursday, November 22, 2012
I sleep too much
My brother says I sleep too much. "You wake up, go to school, then come home and sleep." You know why I sleep so much? It's because I'm so damn tired. All the time.
I'm tired of my life seeming so empty and meaningless. I'm tired of being bored all the time. I'm tired of feeling like my actions hold no significance whatsoever. I'm tired of not feeling real, of not feeling human. I'm so tired of watching others around me go by and just be okay. Why can't I be like that? Why do I have to be different?
I envision the life I want and it all seems like fantasy. I'm so used to this. So used to being frustrated. Alone. Misunderstood. Left out. Isolated. I'm not blaming others. No, most of the time I choose not to be in the company of others because I can't get what I need from available social interaction. I can talk to people, be around them, but why when it all feels so empty, so superficial? That doesn't help me. It can bandage things for a while, keep my bleeding soul together just enough to function, as it does in school, but I am alone. My best friend can't speak. My best friend is a cat.
How can things be different? How can I even dare to imagine a life in which I am happy, in which I have meaningful relationships with PEOPLE, in which I can be as free as the air and as light as a feather? I hardly expect good things to happen anymore. Some part of me knows I'm going to college next year. Some part of me really believes it'll be the one I really want to go to as well. But I dare not let that make me happy, because right now it doesn't change anything.
I want to tear my hair out and scream, I am so frustrated. When my depression doesn't completely debilitate me, I throw myself into my schoolwork like lives depend on it. And maybe they do. It's all I have, all that I really have, as mine, to connect to, to fool me into thinking I'm doing something worthwhile. Something that will better me and therefore better the world. I wouldn't be surprised if it's all a gimmick though. It's hard to get me to believe or trust anything or anyone anymore.
Love? What the hell is that? I can't see myself being in love. Love is for people. I'm not a person. I'm just me, and I don't know what that means. I love ideas, not people. I think this is because I am an idea as well. I'm not a cat, but I love mine. He keeps me connected to life, and reminds me that I am living, and existing in a world in which others are also alive.
Words, words, words. That's what people throw at me. I don't know if it's because they think they'll heal me, or if it's instinctual, or if they just don't know what else to do. I love words, but they are abused. Misused. I comb through everything I hear and see and I can detect emptiness. Even when it's not implied, so many words are empty to me, because they just don't hit me. They don't affect me. They don't help me. You try to help me, but you don't. And I feel myself at fault, because I know I have people that care about me. It doesn't matter. I am still alone. You can't tell me I'm not because you don't know. You are not me.
Where are you, others, of my kind? Am I to believe I really am as alone as I feel? Do others accept existing without being? Are they aware of not being? Or does their unawareness of not being allow them to be? I want to see where this will take me. I want to see something good come out of this head and life which goes through so much pain and conflict. I want to believe there's a silver lining to these grey, grey clouds.
How can I, of all people, be so different? I'm not that special. I'm just me. We're told contradicting things, growing up. You're special. No, you're just like everyone else. No you really are special and unique. What am I? Where am I? Why do I have to feel like this? Can I just have an answer, and be left alone, with my work and my cat? I'd be content if it weren't for these impressions of doubt and void. I don't need much. I don't ask for much. I just want to be okay. I don't want to just function, exist, 70% of the time, in whatever small way one defines functioning. I want to through and through, every cell, be okay. OK. Okay.
I'm tired of my life seeming so empty and meaningless. I'm tired of being bored all the time. I'm tired of feeling like my actions hold no significance whatsoever. I'm tired of not feeling real, of not feeling human. I'm so tired of watching others around me go by and just be okay. Why can't I be like that? Why do I have to be different?
I envision the life I want and it all seems like fantasy. I'm so used to this. So used to being frustrated. Alone. Misunderstood. Left out. Isolated. I'm not blaming others. No, most of the time I choose not to be in the company of others because I can't get what I need from available social interaction. I can talk to people, be around them, but why when it all feels so empty, so superficial? That doesn't help me. It can bandage things for a while, keep my bleeding soul together just enough to function, as it does in school, but I am alone. My best friend can't speak. My best friend is a cat.
How can things be different? How can I even dare to imagine a life in which I am happy, in which I have meaningful relationships with PEOPLE, in which I can be as free as the air and as light as a feather? I hardly expect good things to happen anymore. Some part of me knows I'm going to college next year. Some part of me really believes it'll be the one I really want to go to as well. But I dare not let that make me happy, because right now it doesn't change anything.
I want to tear my hair out and scream, I am so frustrated. When my depression doesn't completely debilitate me, I throw myself into my schoolwork like lives depend on it. And maybe they do. It's all I have, all that I really have, as mine, to connect to, to fool me into thinking I'm doing something worthwhile. Something that will better me and therefore better the world. I wouldn't be surprised if it's all a gimmick though. It's hard to get me to believe or trust anything or anyone anymore.
Love? What the hell is that? I can't see myself being in love. Love is for people. I'm not a person. I'm just me, and I don't know what that means. I love ideas, not people. I think this is because I am an idea as well. I'm not a cat, but I love mine. He keeps me connected to life, and reminds me that I am living, and existing in a world in which others are also alive.
Words, words, words. That's what people throw at me. I don't know if it's because they think they'll heal me, or if it's instinctual, or if they just don't know what else to do. I love words, but they are abused. Misused. I comb through everything I hear and see and I can detect emptiness. Even when it's not implied, so many words are empty to me, because they just don't hit me. They don't affect me. They don't help me. You try to help me, but you don't. And I feel myself at fault, because I know I have people that care about me. It doesn't matter. I am still alone. You can't tell me I'm not because you don't know. You are not me.
Where are you, others, of my kind? Am I to believe I really am as alone as I feel? Do others accept existing without being? Are they aware of not being? Or does their unawareness of not being allow them to be? I want to see where this will take me. I want to see something good come out of this head and life which goes through so much pain and conflict. I want to believe there's a silver lining to these grey, grey clouds.
How can I, of all people, be so different? I'm not that special. I'm just me. We're told contradicting things, growing up. You're special. No, you're just like everyone else. No you really are special and unique. What am I? Where am I? Why do I have to feel like this? Can I just have an answer, and be left alone, with my work and my cat? I'd be content if it weren't for these impressions of doubt and void. I don't need much. I don't ask for much. I just want to be okay. I don't want to just function, exist, 70% of the time, in whatever small way one defines functioning. I want to through and through, every cell, be okay. OK. Okay.
Friday, November 16, 2012
11/16/12
Today was an interesting day. But that's only because it's the present. It won't mean much with some time.
I think I take some solace in the temporary nature of, well, everything. That means that there's perpetual movement and no matter how bad things get, they won't stay that way. Sure it's hell during the moment. But it won't last.
I have these, phases. They last anywhere from seconds to hours to weeks at a time. I hate everything when I'm in this state. Seconds last hours, I can't focus in school, and I become aversive to social interaction. I wish nothing more than to die. But I can't! I can't die! Well, I can, but I can't make that decision. And you know what that does? Knowing I can't give up makes it so much harder. It's frustrating. It means I have to deal with the situation, with that feeling of being lower than low. I can't do a damn thing about it other than to ride it out.
I do. I do ride it out. I get better, on a whim, temporarily. I hold onto the times when I'm happy, and I exaggerate it and milk that happiness for way more than it's worth, because going back is a horrible experience. It's so very painful, and all I can do is pray that these episodes will lessen in frequency and/or severity (at this point I'd take even one of those.)
I'm not sure what causes my depressed moods. I mean, I guess I could point out a few things, but I think it's a combination of many, and I wish I knew just what pushes me over the edge so I could work on eliminating one stressor at a time.
I live with so much doubt. I doubt myself, I doubt others. I doubt just about everything. I don't feel there's much stability in the universe, much less my life. I don't have much of an anchor or a rock to hold onto when the earthquakes come.
Living isn't fun. It's hard. I just hope it's worth something along the way or in the end.
I think I take some solace in the temporary nature of, well, everything. That means that there's perpetual movement and no matter how bad things get, they won't stay that way. Sure it's hell during the moment. But it won't last.
I have these, phases. They last anywhere from seconds to hours to weeks at a time. I hate everything when I'm in this state. Seconds last hours, I can't focus in school, and I become aversive to social interaction. I wish nothing more than to die. But I can't! I can't die! Well, I can, but I can't make that decision. And you know what that does? Knowing I can't give up makes it so much harder. It's frustrating. It means I have to deal with the situation, with that feeling of being lower than low. I can't do a damn thing about it other than to ride it out.
I do. I do ride it out. I get better, on a whim, temporarily. I hold onto the times when I'm happy, and I exaggerate it and milk that happiness for way more than it's worth, because going back is a horrible experience. It's so very painful, and all I can do is pray that these episodes will lessen in frequency and/or severity (at this point I'd take even one of those.)
I'm not sure what causes my depressed moods. I mean, I guess I could point out a few things, but I think it's a combination of many, and I wish I knew just what pushes me over the edge so I could work on eliminating one stressor at a time.
I live with so much doubt. I doubt myself, I doubt others. I doubt just about everything. I don't feel there's much stability in the universe, much less my life. I don't have much of an anchor or a rock to hold onto when the earthquakes come.
Living isn't fun. It's hard. I just hope it's worth something along the way or in the end.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
An entire void
There's a void that's been within me for so long, that it is an actual thing that I would not recognize myself without. It defines me much more than anything else, but I don't think it's apparent to others.
I don't feel like a person. I see people around me, and I admire them, with varying degrees of respect. People fascinate me, but I think I like ideas more than people. Ideas don't really change. Ideas and facts are consistent and stable. I understand ideas and can connect to them. This is why I love science, psychology, and philosophy so much; because through them, people can be broken down into ideas, into aspects that I can relate to, understand, and love.
I think I love people too.. but I'm not amongst them. I'm something else. I watch those around me go about their lives, thinking and feeling things, being with friends and romantic partners, and that's ok. That's normal. But I feel so far away from even those I consider my closest friends. Love, doesn't seem to be for me. I thought I knew her once, but she's left, and right now I can't see myself becoming reacquainted.
I went to a friend's funeral last night. I don't think I felt like the others there did. They were crying. I didn't, and haven't, cried. Instead I thought. I thought of what life means, the value of it, what value is in itself. Value seems very arbitrary, represented by symbols, things standing in place for something else, something we can't touch or see. If it can't be sensed, how can it be perceived?
What I'm about to type may be seen as offensive, but I mean no harm. I just want to be able to share what I think. I did not like Ryan's funeral. No one did, right? That's not how I mean it. I did not like it because it did not accomplish for me what I thought a funeral should. I wanted to be able to feel connected. I wanted to be able to feel great sorrow. I wanted to cry. I wanted the focus to be on his life. Instead, I felt more connected to the wood in the pews and the fibers in my jacket than to Ryan or the others there. I became upset when it was clear that the service was more about religion than about our departed friend.
I think a big thing about religion, and please excuse me here, is that it's used as an aversive tool. It's used to fabricate hope and happiness, to avoid asking questions, and to deny permanency and sorrow. It's ok that we lost a friend, because he is with God in heaven, and he'll be brought back in the Resurrection, and we'll see him again. What's wrong with saying something has ended, what's wrong with being deeply upset?
I drove home alone in the dark with an odd feeling. I was hypersensitive to my aloneness, but I welcomed and accepted it. I thought, maybe I will be alone. But that's ok, because my life, human or not, has a purpose. Even if I'm not a person, I can positively affect others that are people. So throughout my depression and negative times, I cannot give up, because I'm here for a reason.
Yes, I'd like to be able to control the circumstances of my death. I'm not saying I won't end up committing suicide myself one day. But I have things to do first. I'm going to try my damnedest at succeeding, at becoming educated and an educator, at becoming a good friend and a lover, at becoming happy. So until I live out my potential, I'll try to take care of myself, even alone.
For now, I'm just Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.
I don't feel like a person. I see people around me, and I admire them, with varying degrees of respect. People fascinate me, but I think I like ideas more than people. Ideas don't really change. Ideas and facts are consistent and stable. I understand ideas and can connect to them. This is why I love science, psychology, and philosophy so much; because through them, people can be broken down into ideas, into aspects that I can relate to, understand, and love.
I think I love people too.. but I'm not amongst them. I'm something else. I watch those around me go about their lives, thinking and feeling things, being with friends and romantic partners, and that's ok. That's normal. But I feel so far away from even those I consider my closest friends. Love, doesn't seem to be for me. I thought I knew her once, but she's left, and right now I can't see myself becoming reacquainted.
I went to a friend's funeral last night. I don't think I felt like the others there did. They were crying. I didn't, and haven't, cried. Instead I thought. I thought of what life means, the value of it, what value is in itself. Value seems very arbitrary, represented by symbols, things standing in place for something else, something we can't touch or see. If it can't be sensed, how can it be perceived?
What I'm about to type may be seen as offensive, but I mean no harm. I just want to be able to share what I think. I did not like Ryan's funeral. No one did, right? That's not how I mean it. I did not like it because it did not accomplish for me what I thought a funeral should. I wanted to be able to feel connected. I wanted to be able to feel great sorrow. I wanted to cry. I wanted the focus to be on his life. Instead, I felt more connected to the wood in the pews and the fibers in my jacket than to Ryan or the others there. I became upset when it was clear that the service was more about religion than about our departed friend.
I think a big thing about religion, and please excuse me here, is that it's used as an aversive tool. It's used to fabricate hope and happiness, to avoid asking questions, and to deny permanency and sorrow. It's ok that we lost a friend, because he is with God in heaven, and he'll be brought back in the Resurrection, and we'll see him again. What's wrong with saying something has ended, what's wrong with being deeply upset?
I drove home alone in the dark with an odd feeling. I was hypersensitive to my aloneness, but I welcomed and accepted it. I thought, maybe I will be alone. But that's ok, because my life, human or not, has a purpose. Even if I'm not a person, I can positively affect others that are people. So throughout my depression and negative times, I cannot give up, because I'm here for a reason.
Yes, I'd like to be able to control the circumstances of my death. I'm not saying I won't end up committing suicide myself one day. But I have things to do first. I'm going to try my damnedest at succeeding, at becoming educated and an educator, at becoming a good friend and a lover, at becoming happy. So until I live out my potential, I'll try to take care of myself, even alone.
For now, I'm just Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
"God"
I don't consider myself a bad person. There are things about me that others don't like, sure. I may make some choices others disapprove of. I may make some choices that even I disapprove of. Other things aren't exactly choices, but may elicit some dislike nonetheless. That's fine. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion; I'll admit there are plenty of things about other people I don't like myself. What bothers me is when it's said or implied that God disapproves of us.
I'm not exactly religious. I don't go to church, read religious scriptures (aside from research purposes,) or believe in an orthodox sense. But I do believe in some sort of divine higher power. God, whatever form "it" takes, does not hate me for being gay. God doesn't hate certain races. God doesn't hate people of various intelligences. God doesn't hate you if you smoke or drink.
God doesn't hate. People hate. God is a life force that connects everything in existence. God provides us everything we have. It allows us to do everything we can, whether it be "good" or "bad." God doesn't judge. God just IS, and IS everywhere. Perhaps one day this spiritual phenomenon, which many call "God" or whatever other names it has been given, will be explainable by science, but that won't make it any less important or powerful. Is a beating heart any less beautiful now that we know what causes muscles to contract? No.
Whatever we believe, this thing, that I only call "God" for lack of a better word or description, is universal. It's basic to life, to existence, to the bonds between and within atoms. In a world of differences, this is one of the few things that makes us all the same. Judgment, war, discrimination, etc., are all human-borne. We shouldn't use God or religion as an excuse to uphold our negativity toward others. We should take responsibility for our own feelings and be able to recognize that they are our own, whether they are wrong or right. Then, once we recognize what we create within us, we can reach toward spirituality --also within us-- to help us connect with others and change our ways (should we want to)!
I'm not exactly religious. I don't go to church, read religious scriptures (aside from research purposes,) or believe in an orthodox sense. But I do believe in some sort of divine higher power. God, whatever form "it" takes, does not hate me for being gay. God doesn't hate certain races. God doesn't hate people of various intelligences. God doesn't hate you if you smoke or drink.
God doesn't hate. People hate. God is a life force that connects everything in existence. God provides us everything we have. It allows us to do everything we can, whether it be "good" or "bad." God doesn't judge. God just IS, and IS everywhere. Perhaps one day this spiritual phenomenon, which many call "God" or whatever other names it has been given, will be explainable by science, but that won't make it any less important or powerful. Is a beating heart any less beautiful now that we know what causes muscles to contract? No.
Whatever we believe, this thing, that I only call "God" for lack of a better word or description, is universal. It's basic to life, to existence, to the bonds between and within atoms. In a world of differences, this is one of the few things that makes us all the same. Judgment, war, discrimination, etc., are all human-borne. We shouldn't use God or religion as an excuse to uphold our negativity toward others. We should take responsibility for our own feelings and be able to recognize that they are our own, whether they are wrong or right. Then, once we recognize what we create within us, we can reach toward spirituality --also within us-- to help us connect with others and change our ways (should we want to)!
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Emily
Oh mystery girl
It's been so long since I've seen you
I doubt you remember me
Or else you would've returned
I remember you though
Your name?
I think it was Emily
Or maybe it was something else
All I remember was your long, golden hair
Your bright blue eyes that I had to fight for
Your fair face; Angelic
The texture of your lips against mine
Soft, yet passionate
But above all
We were in love
In a pure way, in a true way
And we were so happy in each other's arms
Oh Emily
Girl from my dream
I know you're still there
Where have you hidden?
It's been so long since I've seen you
I doubt you remember me
Or else you would've returned
I remember you though
Your name?
I think it was Emily
Or maybe it was something else
All I remember was your long, golden hair
Your bright blue eyes that I had to fight for
Your fair face; Angelic
The texture of your lips against mine
Soft, yet passionate
But above all
We were in love
In a pure way, in a true way
And we were so happy in each other's arms
Oh Emily
Girl from my dream
I know you're still there
Where have you hidden?
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