I feel let down by God. Yes, I do believe in God; I've been angry at God so many times that to not believe in God would mean I wouldn't be angry at anything. For the past year I've been happy with God, with life, as much of one as I have. But not now; God has given me a cross so big and so thick that I can't carry it. And yet I've carried it since I was born, because humans are adaptable. Why are we adaptable? Why don't we just collapse under the weight of our suffering and moan? Well, I've already done that, now I'm trying to hoist the bloody thing back up and continue down the road to my ultimate crucifixion. It's a sad thing to be going through lent on Christmas.
My life for the past six years has not been fair or just. I have clinical depression, and feel trapped by the rollecoster that is my hormone levels. Will I suddenly tank again into darkness? Too many times. I can't relate or trust people, because I've been hurt...so badly by my fellow humans. It makes me sick to think of it. My vision has labelled me legally blind. That is a burden in itself. My life is small and blurry.
And this may sound self-pitying, and this may sound egotistical, but I don't care anymore. I don't care what people think of me, I just want out of this hypocritical mind game called society. I want freedom, I want happiness, I want love, and all I keep getting back is the waste of bureaucratic shit. This must not make sense, but I don't care.
But I do care, I care that so many people suffer in the world, I care that my friend Rose is worried about me, I care that my mother is being screwed over by this shitty fucked up psychotic church, and I care that the world is so broken it is sickening to look at directly. Am I an optimist? Yes, or else it wouldn't hurt me so badly.
And I don't care that I'm gay anymore, so what? It's who I am, there is much bigger shit that I have to deal with. And I'm sorry I'm using shit every other word, but that's my mood.
And will melencholy thoughts take over me and turn my skin grey? I don't know, it never has. I've been through worse than this and come out of it, but not whole. Peices of myself lay in the jowls of monsters not worth mentioning.
But am I lonely? Yes, because I am different in so many ways and scared that people will ostrasize me for them. Will they? Some, not all. Does this matter? Not to my unconscious, which is so scarred it can't be found. Many wonder why there are school shootings; I'm ashamed to say I know why. If I make my pain visible will I die, and will they change and cry? A metal detector has no face, but a kind heart does.
Where am I going with this train of thought? Not to anywhere good. I am exponging the tyranny from my soul. I can't write, I don't know how to phrase things delicately in this story. I can, but it's lost within my dreams. Which is why I try to exhaust myself, but then I just get sleepy.
The world is sleepy, and so many people hide their heads in their pillows.
Anyways, I've created two new blogs, one of poetry the other of prose. I hope you enjoy them*meek smile*. My profile
Well, this certainly hasn't been an upbeat entry, but I feel better after venting. Anyways, merry Christmas everyone!