I WANT TO BE FREE.
I am so angry right now, at you and your lifelong friendships and wonderful family members and that you only ever have to worry about superficial problems, that you get to live your life of luck and pleasantry.
I am so angry at myself, because I feel sick of how I feel in my life. I feel so passionless and dull because I have to live a passionless and dull life because that’s just what I have to do to be “normal”.
I’m so angry at everyone else because YOU are AFRAID OF LIFE. I want to live life, but nobody else is willing to live it with me. I’m so tired of feeling alone and having nobody to talk to because even the people who pretend to want to talk to me are just listening because I’m talking at them.
Do you know how bad it feels to recognize that nobody ever talks to me first – nobody EVER initiates a conversation with me unless they want something?
Ever?
No, of course you don’t. You are someone who gets to live your life of privilege and was born into some kind of lovefest where people chase after you to give you gifts and call to check on you and actually care about you. What is it to you that nobody talks to me? It is of no consequence to anyone except me.
Hah, I’m the only one that even notices. Heh. Yeah, and now that you know I notice nobody ever talks to me, you’re going to make some effort to talk to me out of pity or whatever you have for me that allows you to tolerate me. Ugh. Do you know how it FEELS to always be a nuisance – an inconvenience – and to have never had ONE TRUE FRIEND in your entire life?
If you do, by all means, you are entitled in being offended by whatever I write. If not, shove off. I mean it, I’m not interested in pity. I’d really just like to know genuine people who don’t live their lives by some lame political agenda that tells them how to live their lives.
I’m just sick of this world. Everything is so plastic, and NOBODY EVEN SEEMS TO NOTICE. WTF? How does nobody see this? And if they DO see this, why don’t they DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? I just don’t understand.
I am supposed to be asleep right now, getting plenty of sleep so I can go work a super long day of work tomorrow so I can rearrange my schedule to cover someone else’s ungrateful but excessively needy butt.
Eh.
Why do I bother? Why do I even bother.
Because of my kids.
They’re the only reason I am alive.
And I do mean that quite literally. I’d have offed myself a long time ago if they didn’t exist.
This stupid life is just torture otherwise, though. I hate it. Even now that I finally have some semblance of a “good life” that I like to some degree, there are still piles of garbage to wade through. I still have to take care of everyone else’s completely preventable problems, maintain my role as universal scapegoat, and I still have to be the go-to-guy…. just like I’ve been since I was two years old.
Do you understand how lonely it feels to always be the one everyone leans on but NEVER HAVE ANYONE ELSE TO LEAN ON?
And by never, I do mean never.
Never in my life have I been able to trust another human to comfort me and help me, never had a person to confide in or talk to when I am upset. Never had a person who was THERE FOR ME.
EVER.
I feel so empty and blank and disconnected.
Yeah, “It’s just my autism.”
Yeah right, nobody ever even knew about that until a few months ago.
There is no noticeable shift in how other people treat me even though they DO know.
It’s just me.
What is it about me that causes everyone to be so afraid? Why can’t you get over your fears and just show your care or anger or love or hate or whatever? Why can’t you be a genuine person?
Why are we always pretending – EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY???
I pulled out my guitar to play some music, thinking it would calm me down. But, it didn’t. I played a couple of songs, but just got louder and louder (And why have I just now noticed I’m crying?? And, my nose it dripping? I don’t even know how long I’ve been crying at all…. this is how out of sync I am with the world, I don’t even know when my own body is weeping because I’m so angry I’m just typing whatever comes out of my fingers) and I started playing nothing at all and I yelled, “I WANT TO BE FREE!”
And, it’s true. I want to be free, but I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m so completely trapped.
How am I supposed to get untrapped?
We’re all trapped, there is no escape. Death MIGHT be an escape, but I doubt it. Probably just another world of rules and regulations and societal norms.
Bleh, so boring. I’m tired of it.
I was playing my songs and singing and thinking about playing them in a couple of days live, and I thought about how I hate playing live because someone always makes a crack about how bad I am at the guitar. Granted, sometimes that someone is me, but still. I ALREADY KNOW I SUCK AT THE GUITAR, GET ME A BAND IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE IT.
And, that’s really where I started to hit the strings with my fingers. It started to hurt, and I felt glad that it hurt, I was kind of hoping I’d get a cut on my finger or something, but didn’t. I guess that’s why people cut their skin, just to see what will happen or have some confirmation that pain actually means something.
I’m not so sure that it does, though. Physical pain is negligible to me, because I’m constantly in emotional pain. For no discernible reason you could tell, because I don’t tell you anything REAL. Why would I? How could I? I don’t trust you, I have no reason to trust you. We’re not even friends. I don’t know how to have friends. I try, I really do, but I just can’t keep a friend. Some people are friendly, so I guess they are “friends”…. but I don’t KNOW anybody. Nobody knows me.
Perfect.
I’m just at the point where I don’t care any more. I’m just thinking, why don’t you critics get your heads out of your bums and recognize that just because you are afraid to think outside of the box does not mean you have free license to criticize everyone else who has the guts to do the stuff you can’t do.
Maybe if you thought, “hmm, okay they aren’t great, but at least they are having fun!”, you wouldn’t be such a pain to be around. But, that’s too much to ask, right? Because everything is given to you. You got 10 years of lessons, you had friends to play in a band with, you have plenty of free time to practice because you are around people who “respect your art”. You think you’ve earned the right to be a jerk to anyone who doesn’t meet your standard of “good”.
Yeah, and you sound just like some famous person because you can’t think for yourself long enough to come up with your own sound. Good job. Yeah, GOOD JOB. May you get a record deal and live your life in the shadow of someone better than you. Good luck with all that.
Takers, takers, where are the GIVERS in the world?
Why is it so hard for people to GIVE love?
Why do I feel so much love for everyone and never receive any in return?
I just don’t understand the point.
I just do not understand why I am alive, I am overwhelmed right now.
Guess I’ll start crying again. At least I noticed my eyes welling up this time.
Whatever.
I’m not really angry at YOU, I’m sure you’re reading this because you’re concerned or something, thanks for that. I just don’t know what you are feeling unless you specifically TELL ME. So, if you are concerned, you have to tell me you are concerned, otherwise, I just have no clue you are even thinking of me or whatever. I don’t understand what is wrong with me, why it’s so hard for me to relate to people.
How am I supposed to find my place in the world when no place is ever comfortable, even my own home?
Ah, there those tears come. Eh, at least I get to release some stress hormones.
When I get like this, I feel really self-destructive, like I think things about doing drugs or drinking alcohol or going to find some random guy to bang who will likely kill me and leave my corpse in an alley.
That’s pretty much it. I’m just tired of everything so figure I’d might as well do something that might get me killed, because why not? What the hell else is there? Everyone is so invested in that crap anyway, why not just go overboard and do all of that crap to the most extensive level possible and hopefully die from it?
It comes back to the kids.
I’m not going to ditch them just because I’m a f’d up mess, and that’s a fact.
So, I guess I’m lucky, in that respect. Because they’ll depend on me for awhile longer, and need me sometimes, and I can get hugs and kisses from them any time. And, they tell me that they care about me.
How pathetic is that – the only genuine people I’ve ever even known are my children.
The joke that is my life, here for you to read.
Whatever. Have to go to sleep so I can get up early and be a drone for 10 hours or something. Ugh.
I WANT TO BE FREE.
How can I be free?