The worst time of the day for me is right now. The middle of the night. This is the time of day when the world goes silent, & then the thoughts become so much louder. And that’s what I fear most. Because nobody will ever hate me more than I do, and I’m not afraid to let myself know that.
A lot of things I’ve done in the past were done with good intentions. Of course, we all know that’s what the road to Hell is paved with. Lord knows so much of that path has been laid by me alone.
I have this thing I do where I try not to fight with people, because I’d just rather they get their way and be happy. Because in comparison, my happiness is trivial, as I become happy when they’re happy. Only problem with that is, I suppress my real feelings and it all lies dormant until it explodes. And by explodes, I mean I start saying hateful shit to people I care about. Things I truly do not mean, but also things that cannot be taken back once they’re uttered.
I go into self-sabotage mode, and start destroying everything I care about, and severing all ties to anything that could be good for me. Who tf does that? Broken little boys, that’s who. Good news is, I’ve recognized the problem & over the course of time, I’m correcting it. Slow and steady wins the race, as it’s not a problem that will be fixed overnight.
Bad news, I’ve destroyed any chance of anyone ever giving a fuck about me in the process. And before all my friends start going, “I care about you,” you fuck heads know what I mean. So what’s the point of even fixing it then? And therein lies the conundrum.
It’s almost like I’m living in a carnival, hoping to win a prize. What am I going to win? A giant stuffed animal? A goldfish in a bag that’s going to die and leave me too? It’s all part of the mystery.
Used to be – a hundred years ago – y’know, any moron could kinda wander into the woods and look behind a rock or some shit and discover some cool new thing, y’know? Not anymore. Where’s the mystery that makes everything worthwhile? We crave mystery, ’cause there’s none left.
What did that last part mean? Fuck if I know. It’s all a big ass circus in my head. A real shit show to even myself. If you listen closely, off in the distance through my ear drum, you’ll hear, “Doo Doo do da do do…..” Fucking clown shoes. And I’ll leave it at that. Doesn’t make sense to you? Me neither.