Such rage that I could scream all the stars right out of the sky

So here we are again, full-circle it would seem. Fists clenched into balls of incandescent rage and yet unable to unleash my fury against my nemesis.

I look at people in town and view them with a mixture of envy and disgust. I am jealous of their ability to continue living the pathetic lives they lead and not feeling the desire to accomplish more. I am jealous of their acceptance of mediocrity. If I was blessed with their ignorance, stupidity and apathy, I’d probably be happy. But I am not. I am cursed with education, intelligence and determination. I have things I want to achieve, societal ills I am desperate to cure, and yet I seem completely incapable of accomplishing ANYTHING.

I fucking disgust myself. I mean, let’s just take a look at the list of things I have achieved in my life:

That’s right, fuck all. And to make matters worse, the only person I have to blame for this is myself. The only way I seem to deal with all this shit is by posting moaning rants on the Internet which nobody reads, or (in the past) by self-harm.

AND NOTHING I EVER FUCKING TRY EVER FUCKING FIXES ANY OF IT.

Maybe I’m just strung out. I’ve had a long, hard weekend and seem to be on a down-turn and should probably be resting. But all I want to do is destroy something or someone. And as I’m the only person here, I guess it’s going to come to that again.

I’m not after a sympathy vote, I’m not expecting anyone to understand, and I’m certainly not wanting any hollow platitudes in the comments. I just need to channel this hate into something tangible.

Also I apologise for the coarseness of my language in this post.

Advertisements

3 comments

  1. architect of the jungle

    I’m sorry you feel this way…hate is the hardest emotion to feel, it is so psychically disorganizing. I am an accidental misanthrope myself, I didn’t know opening my eyes to reality would mean I would some day deeply resent those who could not do the same. When I feel as badly as you feel now, I try and do something with my hands, I try and engage my senses, make something, anything – if you can do this without resorting to harming (you or someone else) something miraculous will happen. It will. It is our pain that causes us to avoid the cure. Just keeping writing. Write all the rage, in details, your own details will save you.

    I hope this wasn’t an empty platitude.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s