THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
I dream of redwoods and moonlight and paperwork, of their voices and their hands and skin. I wake up and lose their faces, but it never matters. I swear it's always the same.
He will think in paragraphs and speak in poetry, and I will be the opposite, and it will all make sense.
I hate everyone right now. Not a second goes buy where I don't just want to tear my skin off here. Here and out there. I hate the sound of the television and I hate the way they speak about themselves to each other. I hate their lives because they hate them too. I hate everything about them because they do too. I don't want to think of anyone as holding me back, but it's like everything I would be gets lost. They don't have any empathy, and I don't understand it. I don't understand a family, or a group of friends, in which we each keep anonymous personal lives, where no one stops to wonder what anyone else feels or gives anyone else compliments or offers their help. Offers anything.
All I am is empathy.
I just want people who are... Pleasent to be around. I don't know anybody like that. We all just use each other as bodies to move around with. We all just speak to each other because we can't just talk to ourselves. No one cares about anything. It makes my skin crawl when I think about it. I gained something, and lost everything else. That may be a different story. At present- When did every thing always feel so lonely? Desperately lonely. I spend every second wishing for anyone worth caring about. I act the same way as everyone I hate. I act that way because I've been acting this way so long, I don't know how to act any differently, and I don't have anyone who would accept kindness the way they should. I don't have anyone who would look at anything differently from anyone else. Everything is empty, and colorless and vague and souless and everyone is joyless and I don't care about how fat they think they are or how old they are or how ugly or poor they think they are or how much they hate their jobs and their lives and themselves and I don't care what stupid criticisms they have for everyone else. I just don't. I don't hate myself and I don't think I'm old or fat or ugly or poor, and I'm stuck in this bad situation, but I've never looked at the future as bleak. This seems to get lost in my throat around everyone.
I hate everything they say. I hate it. I hate everything about this house and these people and I hate my school and I hate my friends and I hate the way they act and what they think is important and how all they want to do is sit still and blank and stupid and useless. You choose joy. No one I know chooses anything.
I just... I spend every minute wishing for them because I know, I know what they mean, and what holding something good would feel like. I feel so close to it, sometimes.
I have something. I have something that I like and that I enjoy and... I care about it.
I can't care about something this much around people who don't care for anything. Whatever they had, they've all lost. They've lost everything.
I just...
I don't even know anymore. I can't understand the world that built its way up around me. I can't understand how I ended up there. Here. Tearing it all down... I'm so limited by time. By process.
I left everyone behind such a long time ago. I left every single person I know and every single place I know, and I can't stand just biding my time, waiting for some chance to get out.
I have always preferred time by myself to time with anyone else. Now more than ever. I don't like being angry and I don't like sounding cynical and stupid with them.
I just... Time. I don't own any independance. I don't own any room to move...
Sometimes I look at other people and I forget that they can see me too. I wonder what it is that they see...