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May 2017 · 2.2k
Mokena
Equalityphil May 2017
I've had people say that I'm generally a good person
They tell me I'm sweet and thoughtful
And I know they mean it.

But I honestly don't see it.
Every time I look in the mirror
I just feel so utterly disgusted
I'm so cringeworthy
So awkward
So untalented
So average
So annoying
So.... Disappointing

I've never truly hated anyone
But **** I despise myself.
I'm starting to wonder If I should even give a ****....
Apr 2017 · 667
Doesn't matter
Equalityphil Apr 2017
When I really think about it
I realize that there is no point in doing anything.
None of my actions really matter.
Death is inevitable.
And once you're dead, it's not like time stops...
The world keeps moving & goes on without you.
We are all just insignificant beings made of flesh and blood.
And we like to distract ourselves from that thought.
We like to think that there's more to it and life is worth so much but really
you're born, you live, you die.
Apr 2017 · 668
What's Wrong?
Equalityphil Apr 2017
You say this is wrong.
You taught me that this is a sin.
"This isn't what He wants." You say.
Well why is that?
What is so despicable?
I need answers because this, in my eyes, is absolutely amazing and beautiful.
My days are filled with joy.
My life has become so much brighter.
My future is not as terrifying.

So you answer me...

How is love so wrong?
I needed to rant.
Mar 2017 · 909
Untitled
Equalityphil Mar 2017
ART IS THE WEAPON
Your imagination is the ammunition
Stay *****, and stay dangerous
Create and Destroy as you see fit
MCR
2001-2013
Mar 2017 · 649
Tuesday
Equalityphil Mar 2017
Every Tuesday I take a trip to the train station.
I pack all that I have, as heavy as it may be
       set it upon my back
                           then begin my journey.
I stop at times when it all seems like it is too much
                     and try to adjust my cargo
But I realize that I am only slowing myself down
              when I carry the weight of the world on my shoulders
    I fake a smile, for undergoing such a weight is pain
    I breathe in deep and count my steps, fearing that I will only drown and what I have been holding back.
     I have a choice between going nowhere and going somewhere

So I choose.

And instead of hiding or quitting
                I let my burdened baggage go
I open my suitcase, like an old wound
     Lift out what has been tattered and torn
     And set my burdened cargo free to the wind
     I face what I must, and find strength in what I am tossed and thrown aside
     I noticed the stares as overlookers pass
  But I give them a smile and stand up a little taller
     For when that is done, I have reached the station
It's messy.

— The End —