Elucidating Questions

I have this fantasy where I run away

Just away

That everything goes right and I’m free

I’m assuming all my disabilities just cease to exist for this to happen

I just walk away

But where always becomes a question

Where is better than here?

A tiny town where I’m the only queer person but at least there’s an actual forest nearby?

Any number of cities where I wouldn’t fit as much as here

Everything is so disgustingly predictable

And I’m sick of seeing things coming from a mile away and screaming at the locals to run and being called insane

But, thanks to the internet, the locals are everywhere

Thousands of times I’ve said what will happen to be called crazy

And this isn’t the psychic crap

Psychic was predicting the wars happening, back in 2018, with no context

I just see patterns

It’s all so

These events around me

Why does it have to be so typical?

Why can’t someone surprise me and actually do something?

And when can I stop feeling like the someone is supposed to be me when I have no power?

By the time I had wormed enough power to do enough to help I’d be one of them

Why doesn’t anyone else have this sick sense in them like things should be different?

I shouldn’t say anyone

Why don’t enough anyones feel this way?

Why is there a great wall of disinterest in anyone’s eye who could do anything?

Why is there never a successful champion of those that need?

And I don’t know how to be what you need me to be

I want to run away and be someone new who doesn’t feel these responsibilities I cannot fulfill

I feel like I’m standing before a great beast who expects me to overcome them to succeed

If you wanted it a better way why is violence written in the path that brought humanity to realisation?

Did you create us in your image and then want us to be different from you?

Suffering isn’t written in your insides

Struggle is

Danger

Violence

Your potential is our potential

Or do you wish us to be beyond you?

Should we be your successors?

Love

I’m not sure you made it

But you are made of it

Like it just had to exist because of you

I wish we could each be you

As knowing and understanding

I wish we had the compassion of a gentle breeze blowing by to touch your face so you’re not alone

Knowing that in each body is a soul that feels

Even if they’re not all the same

Understanding that each person is a reaction to their life experience

That those reactions are visceral and personal

Understood that capacity is individual

That a world with less harm would create more chances for joy

And that hatred is wrong

It’s hard

I struggle with it when words are slicing through me

I am nothing beside you

And yet you almost go less noticed than I do

Massive yet unseeable

See-able but insufficient

If I could run

I wish I could run to a place where I could meet you face to face

I wonder what face the faceless would have?

Why does everyone get to tear pieces from me and then go about their days?

I’m not over it

I say it hurts and they tell me it’s my own problem

It’s your own problem that the things I said in order to hurt you got to you

Responsibility

What even is that?

I’m being asked to take responsibility for my actions of daring to be disabled while people come into my life on the daily to tear pieces off of me

Why are they all immune?

It’s like they all have this poison and they’re spitting it everywhere

I’m saying please stop, this hurts, and they reply with “that’s your own fault”

Weakness is my fault

My weakness is my own fault

Does your heart tear daily for the struggles of others?

If my inability to defend from personal insults and attacks is a mirror of how my heart bleeds for this world

If you don’t feel things as strongly as me so my feelings are invalid

That means I get to say all your feelings which don’t come even to a percentage of what I feel mean nothing also

You feel nothing compared to me

Truly an NPC

I’m not a main character

But I’m here in this world

Self aware

Awake

Bleeding my heart into the Universe praying something works because I am an insignificant pea in a world of mattresses

But this pea knows that the mattresses are fluff brains that have led our world into disrepair and despair

So, fine, if my big emotions don’t matter

Then what the hell is that tiny ass sad excuse for an emotion you’ve got?

I wish for every person who comes into contact with me negatively to have the exact same day I do

Every day

The same dreams

The same struggles

Get a chronic illness

Lose everything and then spend your lonely days living with your parent (because you can’t afford rent) being mocked by strangers on the internet

When you’re at your last wit

I hope you never find a job again because you’re too broken to be good enough for society but not valid enough a human being for benefits to cover living

Join me in my mental anguish

You deserve it just like I do

Mixed feelings

Big feelings

Back in my old stomping grounds

This university is idyllic

Trees everywhere

Constant breeze off the water

Birds everywhere

You could forget that the world outside is a cruel place for a moment

I was forced to drop out due to poor grades due to struggling with the onset of the second chronic illness

I feel like a failure walking these grounds that I should have graduated from following my parents

My dream all my life to graduate this university like my parents did

Using it as a stepping stone to Japan

Gone

And I’m here to listen to my dad sing about Jesus for two hours

Still can’t say no to him

Still can’t disappoint him

This music has been triggering my psychosis

I just hope I make it through

Somehow I always do though

This world needs a Jesus character and my guilt complex makes me think it should have to be me

I should have to try to change the world

I don’t know what that means

I am terrified of that thought gaining a foothold

Not me fighting it off because that’s stupid and I’m not that important and I will never be that important to the world’s story

Wallowing in feelings

There are deer now

So idyllic outside

So chaotic inside

Can you help me sort myself out?

I don’t even know what I did

But she’s been speaking poison at me all day

People always tell me I’m ugly like it’ll be a shock

What’s the shock is having someone say something mean

And I already am battling

My Fox Goddess is gone

And I am drowning in Chester, and Avicii, and Ashley, and Mikaila

And people are just being mean

That’s it

Just mean

I express an opinion and they attack me as if I’ve said something vile

By saying vile things themselves

Desperate and horny to wallow amongst the lowest of human communication

I don’t like saying things that hurt people 

I only say them when I’m feeling hurt myself

Trying to stop doing that

I thought I was supposed to be quick to anger and irrational

I feel beaten down right now

I wish I knew what happens when you die so I could just kill myself and not be afraid

So many people on this planet have hated me

I was commenting on how we know so many more names than our ancestors did on their tiny villages where everyone was related just a bit and sometimes a lot

My head feels so full of hate for myself

And people just keep pouring it into me

I just want the world to be a better place

But it always feels like the most powerful way I could do that is by removing myself

What does it mean to be alive?

What is the song that flows through me?

I am living and breathing

And persisting despite

In spite

Out of spite

Perhaps if I’m so awful the world deserves to have to deal with me

How many I’m sorrys do I have to say to these people who are suffering because of eachother?

Together, collectively, what is a civilization that requires there be those who suffer to exist?

The more I live

The more I recognise that we are in Omelas

That walking away is not so simple

That we are surrounded by that dark wretched suffering creature

That they are the homeless and the drug addicted in the streets

They are the starving bombed families and children of man induced famine

Does anyone ever free the poor thing?

The poor wretched suffering dirty thing in the dark room?

Suffering so that everyone else can be better off

Because we can’t circulate our abundance

Because we hoard it

And then bully eachother over our limited resource of relevancy

Anyone who says it doesn’t have to be this way is painted like a maniac

Why do good women die while evil men bomb civilians with “progress”

Bombs are progress

It’s like asking us not to kill eachother was too much to ask

It’s been so easy not to kill anyone all my life

Perhaps that’s a blessing

I think if we didn’t raise our children to hate other people there would be less violence

I don’t know all the answers

I just see people suffering and I know it’s wrong

When they say it’s god’s plan, they’re wrong

So many threads

So many choices

Human individuality and free will is almost a curse

No debate over whether we have it

No completely coordinated operation could have gone as off the rails as whatever this poor excuse of a civilization is

Civilised

I thought it was to mean of being civil towards eachother, the world, ourselves

What does it mean to live here? In this uncivil civilization?

What does it mean?