(For non-atheists, insert whatever applies to your beliefs wherever you see a religious noun.)
Dear Angry Atheists:
I'm getting real tired of your shit.
You make the rest of us look bad with your constant ranting about how religion is 'the root of all evil' and your constant warmongering between groups that could actually get along just fine if it weren't for people like YOU. On BOTH sides. Because you're no different than the fundamentalists who call atheists or others of differing beliefs 'heretics' and 'evil'. They say atheism causes moral corruption, you endorse the inverse.
Beautiful things are good, ugly things are not. I know this. This is my creed.
The problem with this is that I am so terrifically ugly, within and without.
Liar, sadist, abuser, freak. Other names that I don't dare speak for fear of who might see.
Worthless. Cannot create anything beautiful. Never will.
Ugly is wrong. By its very nature, ugliness is intrinsically bad. I am so terribly ugly.
I should not exist.
So I was watching a movie to-day (specifically it was a pornograpic movie because why the fuck not) and I started wondering about why the things that are are the things that are, yea?
So. Fucking. Bored. Nobody to talk to, nobody to play with, nobody to even make snide comments about being BORED to. I'M SO FUCKING BORED. Hellishly so. I swear to Goddess I'm gonna fucking deep-fry my neighbor's little kid, too, if the little blond shit doesn't SHUT THE FUCK UP. God I hate children. Not only are they perfect little sociopaths, they're useless and waste far more resources than they create. *adventurer voice* Overpopulation problems, ho! *normal angry voice* Obviously killing and eating them is the solution.
Sometimes... Sometimes I feel so alone. Sometimes I get this feeling that even when someone understands me a lot, they don't really understand what the world is like to me. They don't look at the things I do and see them like I do. I know that everyone's unique, and nobody can really understand another- sure. But that doesn't make it better.
So, that fucking fucker Pat has FINALLY finished that fucking novel that he was writing. Took him long enough. Anyone remember Pat? Good times, those times. I mean, besides how fucking awful they were for me mentally. I was fucked. But yeah. Pretty good times.
Oh yeah, I'm feeling a little bit profane. Why? Because fuck you. That's why.
Okay, fine, it's because I'm more than a little fucking annoyed at myself for getting myself involved in a certain situation that I don't care to talk about right now.
Theatrics! How else to stay sane?
When the world you built falls apart around you, you start to see that all that structure was just a set-piece, and that the life you lived was all just part of the script. You look up, and where once it was too bright to see, you notice the lights. You look down to see the edge of the stage, and beyond it the audience. They're watching you! They're waiting to see what you'll do!
This is something I'm kind-of curious about. I don't quite understand how sex could be loveless, not because I don't have sex with people that I don't love beforehand, but because I love the people I have sex with while I have sex with them.
Recently I've discovered just how intense my personal propensity for violence is; that horrid thrill that comes of bruising skin and tearing flesh brings me a joy unmatched by any form of sexual intimacy. Naturally, my horror at the idea of harming a person who doesn't wish to be harmed hasn't been at all diminished- but where I once thought myself completely incapable of violence, I find that I'm certainly quite capable and very, very willing.
I've been struggling with depression for years. Anyone who knows me knows that much. I've also been struggling with a past that haunts my every thought and consistently eats away at my mind. And worst, of late I've been struggling with mental health issues that have become so extreme that it's excruciatingly painful to be conscious.
Sometimes it's a labour to get out of bed every morning. Sometimes it's a labour to breathe. Anymore, it's always a labour to stay alive.
This is the real life.
This isn't fantasy.
Caught in a landslide; just can't escape from reality.
Close your eyes, look up to the skies and scream:
I'm just a poor boy! I get no sympathy!
It isn't easy-come, but easy-go,
your doubts are high, your hopes are low:
any way the wind blows, it doesn't really matter to the
Kidnapped the land
Put a gun up to our heads
said "No healthcare or they're dead".
life had just begun
to look a little better; now we say:
What the f*** is with you guys?!
As stated in the title, I'm planning on making a youtube channel on which I'll post various videos of myself talking about random crap. I'm curious if anyone has anything they think I should talk about. I'll be posting the link on the site once I've got it up. But yeah. Thanks.
Honestly, sometimes I feel more and more like jumping off of a building when I think about growing older. I'm terrified of losing the things I care for most. I want to live forever, but at the same time I'm horrified at the very idea of the people I love dying before me. I don't want to lose anything. Sometimes I'd really rather die.
And so another day passes.
My sort-of-lover is getting a house, which may mean we're going to see each other again. I also owe him money.
My other lover has been unfairly accused of harassment. I am trying hard not to learn who the syphilitic horse-monkey is that accused him, as if I knew, they would likely be sent a box full of fire-ants.
Still looking for a goddamn job; learned that a lot of banks are trans-friendly. Many fucks were whatted.