My Twenty Fourth Post
I’m becoming nocturnal once more. Every night it gets harder and harder to will myself to sleep. I’m pretty sure that eventually, I’ll get to the point where I’m sleeping less and less. It’s almost that time of year, that time where my brain chemistry decides to go haywire.
It’s only a matter of time until this page is filled with more pointless posts relating my feelings on events in which I am extremely biased. I’m an idiot, I’m a child, I’m ignorant to the fact that I’m both of those things, and I try naively try to follow a path that I believe is pure and loyal. Pathetic.
There’s so much about myself that I’ve realized during the past year. I can admit when I’m a fuck up, but I only get mad when people point it out.
I know what I am. I’m working on it. The problem is, do you know how you’re a fuck up?
But this isn’t supposed to be about anger. Not with others, at least.
It’s 0642, Central time, and in the Eastern time that I’ve grown so accustomed to, I would have been out of the job I love, for an hour. I would just now be getting home, to share a single room with someone I have nothing in common with, and his mom, who is the most passive-aggressive, religiously fanatic neat-freak I have ever met. So, you see, my position comes with pros and cons.
Pros
- More space
- More living freedom
- An actual bed
- Alone time
- My best girl by my side
- Air conditioning
Cons
- Less personal space
- Less social freedom
- Alone time
- Alone time
- Alone time
No, those last three were not typos. See, I needed alone time like a thirsty man needs water…
But too much water can kill.
Oh yeah, add to that con list: I’m in motherfuckin’ Central US.
Its hot as fuck, bright as fuck, boring as fuck, and hot as fuck. But I’d rather have this bullshit then go back East, that’s for damn sure. They don’t need me back anyways. I honestly hope that all of them could just forget I even existed. I was taken advantage of, used, belittled, desecrated, and constantly led by a rope tied around my neck. The funny thing is, most of them don’t even realize that they’re the reason I left.
And why would they? They never figured a stupid child like me actually saw what was happening. They never thought that I could have a mind of my own, that I’m emotionally more than what I exude on the surface.
Not to sound arrogant or egotistic, but I’m a fucking genius compared to these people. They constantly seek to prove their intelligence, because they lack the ability to understand that life is more than trying to get people to think you’re a certain way. They try to be sarcastic. They try to be assholes. They try to make it seem like their childhood was so fucked up. They try to be adults.
I don’t try most of these things. I am what I am, and you’ll see me as you do. I could sit here all day and tell you what I think I am. It doesn’t mean shit, because what people see, hear, and feel, is who you are.
And these people are poison in my lungs.
I loved these people.
I gave, willingly, to these people.
But that just isn’t enough, I guess.
Belittled, used, abused, brushed aside.
You can all destroy yourselves and each other. I’m more than that. I won’t succumb to your poison. I won’t play your game. I couldn’t have possibly stayed to watch all of you ruin your lives. So I left.
But who cares, right? I was just another friendly face in the crowd, just another friend of a friend of a friend. There’s plenty of me out there, and I honestly won’t believe any of you when you say that you miss me. Because you don’t miss me. You miss the convenience of having me around, and all the perks I bring. I’m guessing the money, especially.
If I ever come back, I most likely won’t let any of you know. I don’t want to reunite with you. I don’t need most of you back in my life. I don’t want a lot of you back in my life.
Anything you wanted to say to me or do with me, and didn’t, you missed what could possibly be your final chance in either of our lifetimes.
If you’re going to, go ahead and feel bad. Feel bad for both of us. Because I won’t feel bad. I don’t feel bad.
This is it.
