I don’t have anything to hold onto. Fucking nothing. The people who care about me don’t understand me and don’t accept me. Not who I really am and not what I value in myself or the world. And I know the cliché bullshit retort, “be thankful you have your health, be thankful you’re not living in a third world country, be thankful you have what you do.” And you know what, I am really fucking glad I do have what I do. That I have something that sets me apart from the crowd and something that’s worth a damn. Something no one can steal from me. Something I’m willing to suffer and be rejected by society for. I wouldn’t give it up for anyone or any fucking thing. But having strength doesn’t mean you don’t suffer; and having “the good” doesn’t mean you don’t resent it when everyone doesn’t value it and beyond that has things you don’t. Strength and wisdom doesn’t stop desire. They just make you feel like a fucking idiot and jack ass for wanting what you do. For being human like everyone else and living in the wretched time that we all do that infects us all.
I don’t like how I’ve been feeling lately, but if it’s a consequence of being honest, I’d honestly rather suffer than know the comfort of lies. Lately my long-seeded and internalized feelings of resentment towards everyone and everything have been bubbling on the surface. I hate people and their shallowness. I hate the world for its fundamental injustice. And perhaps I hate myself for constantly being plagued with petty self-concern and never letting go of every wrong that’s ever been inflicted upon me. I’m filled with rage and disgust; a sense of betrayal and contempt. When I was a child the world seemed fundamentally good asides from its flaws; people seemed fundamentally good aside from their weaknesses. But as I grow older, I’ve gained a feeling of hollowness. Like the world has been carved out and I’m just here to suffer. I can’t ignore the world and its nature. I can’t ignore humanity and its nature. The nature of causation. Once fired, you can’t stop a bullet from entering your skull. Once you let go, you can’t stop the glass from falling and shattering. Once the world has been made as it has, you can’t stop it from being the way it is and people from being who they are.
I don’t blame people for their shallowness, stupidity, weakness and everything else. But I still hate it and sometime they themselves. And I still know there’s no hope. No real hope. Nothing real to cling to. I have nothing to cling to, and all you have is something superficial to cling to. Something that feels good but doesn’t mean a fucking thing in the end. But despite knowing all this, I still resent those who have what I don’t; people who feel loved when I feel rejected. I don’t blame people for anything, but I still hate them. I know they can’t sin, but doesn’t mean they’re not “fallen.”
I don’t care how immature or adolescent this sounds, my reasoning is sound regardless. Fuck this. Fuck this world. Fuck all these people. Fuck all these viceful and vain attempts to ground life in something when it can never be grounded. Fuck trying to find anything that lasts in a word of impermanence and pain. Fuck hope.
And most of all fuck you.