born to be down

the world is like a parody that went too far with the material and lost itself in absurdity. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry so i do nothing but wring my hands and wonder where the fuck we went wrong. i wanna leave but there is no distance far enough to escape the insanity, the inanity, the injustice.

times like these remind me why i’m all anti-theology. what sick, twisted mind would come up with a world like this? maybe me, but in an ironic way. but as much as i joke about being a glorious god-queen, i don’t reckon i would be egotistical or sadistic enough to make such a cold world that, as full as it is, often feels so devoid of meaning or i don’t know; resolution or something. like, where is the clarity? we’re all among the filth and muck and we will never be clean, we’ll just be dead. sometimes the best part of a story is the end, and the world contains many of these stories.

as much as some people aspire towards something bright and white-washed pure, they are such brutal, repugnant monsters that deserve nothing but their own miserable company. do they not see what a joke it is that they pretend moral righteousness while they lie, cheat, steal, rape, murder, covet, et cetera?

i look across at the multitudes and i see nothing good among them sometimes, just lesser evils. i don’t want to be the unforgiving type, but why forgive someone when they are not asking for anything like forgiveness? they are past feelings of conscience. and i’m not here to play jiminy cricket to their lying-ass peter pan bullshit. i get sick of having to be patient and kind and understanding while on the inside i seethe and boil over. or better yet, rant online.

sorry this was so dark. i swear i’m not even down or anything. i’m past feeling anything but a slow disdainful shake of the head made into a feeling.

i’ve never seen the desert before, to be so close to nothing

this one’s a doozy.

it just hit me like a truck while i was trying to fall asleep the other night: i wish i had killed my self years ago. i’ve wasted so much time on earth. i used to think i could be a different person if i was just in a different place. but i’ve lived long enough, and i’ve travelled far enough that i know i will never be able to change.

lol i will never be able to put my family through my suicide tho.

yet i can’t stop thinking about it when each day ends. i’m just tired, i tell myself each night at 1am. do you ever get so tired that suicide seems like the only option. lol i can sleep when i’m dead.

i will probably not kill myself. so who the fuck cares how much pain i am in, right?

sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt, and all that shit, right?

i broke down in the doctor’s office crying when the doc asked if i was okay, after i filled out the stupid depression questionnaire.

i just feel trapped, i told her.

and i do. i feel like a pathetic little animal. like i would rather chew off my own leg than live here. lol.

i love how everyone is okay with how much my life feels like hell, as long as i don’t kill myself and make them feel bad. it isn’t about me, it’s all about them. like people are always saying there are worse things than death, but they don’t believe it. people will say anything to me, all the lies, as long as i don’t make that final step off the edge.

as an abrupt change of subject, we ate indian food after the doctor. it was good and spicy. lol my mom is so oblivious to everything, good for her. she thinks today was a good day.

i would do anything to let everyone remain oblivious in my life. but my resolve is crumbling. i don’t know how much i can keep this shit up. i need to speak to two of my profs and ask them for some sort of leniency for my shit attendance and school-work ethic. the other one is the religion one and since i’m getting more than 100% in that class currently, i’m not too worried.

okay for now i’m done venting to myself. what a great way to end the day: whining.

and if love is a drug, i don’t want it, because i don’t have any self control

it’s midnight and i’m in the basement because it’s thundering a tiny bit and lucy is afraid.

i had the usual dream that has become rather unusual as my mind tries to buck away from its habitual obsessions to focus on new ones. the old ones, the old dreams are rare now, and made more precious because of it. also more poisonous.

i’m walking through a party, because i know you’re there. but you’ve left. i look everywhere, and you’re gone. you just left the room. you just turned the corner. it’s like a maze of other people smiling and laughing, and me, alone, looking for you. this time i don’t wind up outside in the snow and stars, the dream doesn’t reach this sad crescendo. it just ends with me realizing you’re not there, not anywhere near me.

the dream is a bit on the nose, lol. real life occasionally mirrors it. i find myself at get-togethers, too afraid to be obvious, to ask if you’re there. so i just wander, looking for you..and of course you’re never there. you’re somewhere else, living a different life. i guess i have to accept that.

the last time i saw you i was a different person with a different agenda, a different heart, a different mind. i didn’t know much about anything outside myself. i don’t even know who you are anymore, and i don’t know who, or how, to ask. i don’t even know why i held on to you in my mind, why i ever found comfort in thoughts of star-crossed love, brought to fruition. that path is gone. it’s dead, with all the others. i guess my mind just hasn’t caught up to reality, which is definitely a theme brought up in my life over and over.

sometimes i feel as though i don’t belong in reality anyway. i’ve spent some time apart and i don’t think it lives up to the hype. oh well. as everyone in my life keeps saying, it is what it is. and there is something so final and concrete about that, that i wanna fight it, because honestly that’s my place, i think, fighting things, ideas, concepts, truths. i sometimes just want to ignore the truth so i don’t have to fight it or accept it fully, but that never works for long. something always reminds me of you and i’m back on the stupid, gaudy, rococo train of thought that i’m pretty sure is love, and though everyone’s always spouting on about it, it is the saddest, most futile thing i’ve ever witnessed myself engaging in. so, as some wise, eloquent, probably long dead person said, that sucks.

and unfortunately i’ve found myself agreeing with the naysayers.

i’m here, and you’re merely a gesture in some vague direction to me. that’s how far apart we are, in body and mind. so yeah, sarah, give up, give in. this idea you hold is dead and you’re just sadly, obstinately oblivious to it half the time. and the other half you’re in mourning for it. just let go.

it is what it is.

for years and years, i’ve chased this day. they were always for you

i can’t wait ’til school starts up again, but i’m also anxious about it.

katie, the backroom coordinator, missed work the other day, and i was concerned, as she never misses work. then on facebook she shared a gofundme page. her four-month old cousin passed away very suddenly. i’m not sure of what, i’m assuming SIDS. i donated some money, but i just feel so bad for her and her family. 😦

i hope they get the money they need to have a funeral, and that the people around them who care can bring them some comfort. ugh but i can’t imagine that much grief, the wrongness of it.