May 2020
I'm tired of this game.
That loneliness you now feel, has been my suffering for many years. It never mattered.
But it surely matters now, now that it's yours.
I'm tired of pretending.
Pretending that it wasn't you who made me feel that way, to begin with... Pretending that I'm worth anything other than my own suffering, some of which I caused and some I didn't.
It's a delusion I live with, I live inside of. This complex, multi-layered delusion that I'm good enough to be loved, by anyone, on any average day. A delusion that anyone would ever love me for me, as I've been made to be.
Being strong is a joke.
You can say it on repeat if you want to, but it's all a lie. We merely want others to be strong so that you, yourself can pretend to be strong.
Humans are weak.
Humans are selfish.
Humans are critical.
I say this with certainty, because I am human. I am critical. I am selfish. I am weak.
It's all a game.
Everyday I log into my single player game and I pretend my delusional thinking could ever actually be real. I pretend I'm like you, so you don't feel pity. You pretend I'm like you, so I don't hate myself.
Layers of lies, is all it is.
No person wants to cause the end, but the end is inevitable. If we are forced into living, we will also be forced into dying. It's uncontrollable...
Humans love control, though.
So this is the dilemma. It's not that you, or I, don't want to die, eventually, it's the control of when it happens. Which it will.
So we can sit around and cry about the uncontrollable nature that is this existence, or we can have a voice, have action, have meaning, have love, have purpose.
Because I didn't purposefully become different than you, it leaves me with a permanent state of "uncontrollable life". Unlovable. Unchangeable. Alone.
So I continue playing the game.
Eating the layers of this onion, so you can feel like you didn't contribute to the end. I'll eat this disgusting onion, so you feel better about what you've done. So that you can think I'm happy.
You can sleep peaceful knowing you fed me these onions... so I didn't end, outside of your control.
That loneliness you now feel, has been my suffering for many years. It never mattered.
But it surely matters now, now that it's yours.
I'm tired of pretending.
Pretending that it wasn't you who made me feel that way, to begin with... Pretending that I'm worth anything other than my own suffering, some of which I caused and some I didn't.
It's a delusion I live with, I live inside of. This complex, multi-layered delusion that I'm good enough to be loved, by anyone, on any average day. A delusion that anyone would ever love me for me, as I've been made to be.
Being strong is a joke.
You can say it on repeat if you want to, but it's all a lie. We merely want others to be strong so that you, yourself can pretend to be strong.
Humans are weak.
Humans are selfish.
Humans are critical.
I say this with certainty, because I am human. I am critical. I am selfish. I am weak.
It's all a game.
Everyday I log into my single player game and I pretend my delusional thinking could ever actually be real. I pretend I'm like you, so you don't feel pity. You pretend I'm like you, so I don't hate myself.
Layers of lies, is all it is.
No person wants to cause the end, but the end is inevitable. If we are forced into living, we will also be forced into dying. It's uncontrollable...
Humans love control, though.
So this is the dilemma. It's not that you, or I, don't want to die, eventually, it's the control of when it happens. Which it will.
So we can sit around and cry about the uncontrollable nature that is this existence, or we can have a voice, have action, have meaning, have love, have purpose.
Because I didn't purposefully become different than you, it leaves me with a permanent state of "uncontrollable life". Unlovable. Unchangeable. Alone.
So I continue playing the game.
Eating the layers of this onion, so you can feel like you didn't contribute to the end. I'll eat this disgusting onion, so you feel better about what you've done. So that you can think I'm happy.
You can sleep peaceful knowing you fed me these onions... so I didn't end, outside of your control.
