My mind is a curse I cannot escape
warnings: generally dark themes, this is a collection of my recent thoughts about life and are not organized (i think) so heavy themes ahead proceed with caution stay safe and uhh yeah!
oh and its like 900+ words so uhhh strap in ig idk
Iām tired.
And yet..
Sleep evades me like the plague.
Iām tired in a different sense.
Tired of just being a pawn in her game to win against him.
Iāve gotten used to it at this point.
If I hadnāt I wouldāve died along the way.
Every little fight..
Every little disagreement.
How Iāve grown to hate the idea of family.
The world has shown me examples of happy, accepting families.
Why must I be taunted like this?
Itās like holding a treat in front of a dog but itās tied to a stick on its back so that it will forever be out of reach.
The universe owes me such things.
Itās shameful to say Iām jealous of the love shared by those families but I am only mortal.
I was denied such advantages, of course I would be jealous.
Jealous of the fact I have to live with the emotional baggage they lack.
The concept of family has been ruined for me.
And I think Iām okay with that.
Afterall, itās not exactly my fault, is it?
That they argue.
That they lie.
That they cheat.
Itās not my fault they are like this.
Or their parents, or their parentsā parents, and so on and so forth.
Even then I feel useless for not being able to do anything.
The world around me is a blurry haze and yet I canāt seem to care less.
Days just faze by like water slipping through your fingers.
I try to grasp at the vague silhouettes and yet nothing comes from it.
Vague promises of greatness and love.
But I do not feel such things.
My mind is a constant state of numbness.
I am my own curse that I cannot escape from.
I was never blessed with such things.
Maybe if I had been I wouldnāt be such a cold monster.
A creature doomed to never be loved.
To never feel the kindness that heals the heart.
I donāt like this game the universe is playing.
I want to be loved, I want to feel as if I matter.
Death seems to bring that feeling.
When youāre dead people will talk about how much you mattered but when youāre alive nobody listens to your pleads for help.
Itās an amusing contradiction, isnāt it.
How the human mind amuses me.
I donāt exactly want to die but the idea of eternal rest doesnāt bother me as much as it should.
Iāve accepted the fact I will die one day, I suppose.
My flesh shall rot away and I will be nothing but bones.
Then my bones will be grinded down and to dust I shall return.
My existence is a poorly written drama show and I am a side character in it.
I am watching my life from the perspective of a viewer live as I act it.
A player in a game where I am the protagonist.
A side character of my own story.
A pawn in my own game.
Perhaps Iāve come to terms with that.
Maybe Iām okay with it.
Just fading into the background.
Another number to add to the census.
Perhaps I wonāt amount to anything.
My name will be lost to time and time will carry on as if nothing happened.
My life is slipping away through the cracks while I watch uselessly.
What happened?
I was such a smart kid.
A āgiftedā kid, if you will.
I was praised for being such an exemplary student.
But as I got older it turned into a basic expectation.
I lost what made me feel like I was worthy of praise.
Something that made me feel as if I was worth noticing.
But now.
Now nothing is good enough.
I have to keep trying.
Rip and tear at myself just to feel that praise once more.
To feel noticed.
And yet.
The praise I receive doesnāt feel.. Right
I donāt deserve it.
The kind words.
I shouldnāt be allowed to experience such nice things.
I havenāt done well enough.
Not enough.
Never. Enough.
Everything I do is mediocre.
I need to try harder.
Till my bones wear down and till I cannot give no more.
It will never be enough.
An endless cycle of hellish torment that will never cease.
An unlovable monster born from a cruel society.
Too much to be loved and too doubtful to accept it.
Even then it claws its way through life, just for a distant star in the sky.
How his words soothe me.
How his presence keeps me alive.
A star I love and yet cannot touch for my claws will ruin it.
Everything Iāve let go has my marks on it.
My blood.
My words.
My touch.
I do not deserve to have nice things.
But, I cannot let him go.
He is my light.
My guiding star in the treacherous seas.
He is a flower I cannot touch for my rotten hands will wilt him.
Maybe he finds me boring.
Too much.
Too little.
Too uncaring.
Too caring.
He will get tired of me.
He will not love me one day.
I do not deserve him.
One day he will figure out I am not enough for him and leave.
I think I am okay with that.
Not really, Iād die if that happened.
But I shall rest easy knowing that he chose someone better.
Iāll rest easy knowing heās happy.
