For the one single guy that bothers to read my schizoposting, you must know how much I absolutely detest feeling hope. This has been a major struggle all along the highlights of my maturing. When I was 10, 13, 17, and now at 20, the way I looked at things changed vastly, but one question remained set in stone. "Why everyone - *literally everyone* - except me?"
I've seen people way more antisocial than I get friends and a girlfriend.
I've seen people way more hateful than I get friends and a girlfriend.
I've seen people way more sheltered and clueless than I get friends and a girlfriend.
So, again, *why* not me? Am I just *that* ugly? I feel like my zipper is down at a spiritual level, and everyone is laughing or too careless to tell me what the hell is wrong.
At 10, I said, "Oh, it's okay, it will be better in my teens!"
At 13, I said, "Oh, maybe I just need to glow up!"
At 17, I said, "Oh, maybe when I am an adult!"
I am 19 now. Am I really as dumb, as insane, as fucking *dense* to say "oh, maybe in my 20s!"?
No, but what else is there to do? I am afraid of death. And once I give up hope, all that remains is death.
When will I be satisfied? I wish I was never been born, I wish I had never grown up, I wish I hadn't lost my teens to... being me. Zero love, zero friends. And want to know what's funny? I am going to lose my 20s, too. You know why? Because I'm still me. With the exact same 5'8 subhuman height, with the exact same deformed asymmetric face, with the exact same shit genetics I carry, with the exact same shame - God, the same - at who I am, at how I look, at how I speak, at what I like, at what I think, at literally anything - I die inside every single time I say my name. There is something fundamentally wrong with me. I have zero positive traits and zero redeeming qualities.
I've given up on myself, but every crumb of hope that shows up hurts. My family has gambling genetics, you know? Every "what if you had tried again - and it *was* the one" kills me a bit. Because I crave human attention, but I'm too socially retarded and afraid of creeping people off to fucking speak my mind unfiltered, let alone have friends. I don't think the why I can't be anyone's boyfriend needs questioning, I am 5'8 after all, but even if I were average, there's so much shit broken that by this point I just want to violently rip my heart out and pass out under the light of the stars. Or maybe if I were normal, I'd not be like this and live a happy life. But that boat sailed the second of my conception.
I know nothing will ever get better. Still, by not roping, every day I roll the dice to see how worse it can get. I bet on losing dogs.
I've seen people way more antisocial than I get friends and a girlfriend.
I've seen people way more hateful than I get friends and a girlfriend.
I've seen people way more sheltered and clueless than I get friends and a girlfriend.
So, again, *why* not me? Am I just *that* ugly? I feel like my zipper is down at a spiritual level, and everyone is laughing or too careless to tell me what the hell is wrong.
At 10, I said, "Oh, it's okay, it will be better in my teens!"
At 13, I said, "Oh, maybe I just need to glow up!"
At 17, I said, "Oh, maybe when I am an adult!"
I am 19 now. Am I really as dumb, as insane, as fucking *dense* to say "oh, maybe in my 20s!"?
No, but what else is there to do? I am afraid of death. And once I give up hope, all that remains is death.
When will I be satisfied? I wish I was never been born, I wish I had never grown up, I wish I hadn't lost my teens to... being me. Zero love, zero friends. And want to know what's funny? I am going to lose my 20s, too. You know why? Because I'm still me. With the exact same 5'8 subhuman height, with the exact same deformed asymmetric face, with the exact same shit genetics I carry, with the exact same shame - God, the same - at who I am, at how I look, at how I speak, at what I like, at what I think, at literally anything - I die inside every single time I say my name. There is something fundamentally wrong with me. I have zero positive traits and zero redeeming qualities.
I've given up on myself, but every crumb of hope that shows up hurts. My family has gambling genetics, you know? Every "what if you had tried again - and it *was* the one" kills me a bit. Because I crave human attention, but I'm too socially retarded and afraid of creeping people off to fucking speak my mind unfiltered, let alone have friends. I don't think the why I can't be anyone's boyfriend needs questioning, I am 5'8 after all, but even if I were average, there's so much shit broken that by this point I just want to violently rip my heart out and pass out under the light of the stars. Or maybe if I were normal, I'd not be like this and live a happy life. But that boat sailed the second of my conception.
I know nothing will ever get better. Still, by not roping, every day I roll the dice to see how worse it can get. I bet on losing dogs.
