robo37 wrote:
My life is getting worse by the second. The demons of the dark are hunting me down. I am considering suicide now, but I probably won’t commit it. I want to commit it. I get bullied in school, I get mentally torched. Life’s hell. I have always been different in school and I have been punished for it. The darkness grows. I hate my life, I haven’t seen even a glimpse of anything positive. I have no place in this universe, I am abnormal. I am ugly, unattractive, shy, clumsy, useless and a failure in everything succeedable. I have always been an outsider. I have been disconnected, a temporary glitch that’s due to turn permanent. My shallow fate shall be tested. What is life? It's clearly unnecessary. Suceedable gibberish. I just can't take anymore.
What if I die now? Would anybody care? No one cares about me now. No one cares. You don’t know me, you can’t care. My mum would cry, my dad would be unsustainable, school would be saddened, some would be enlightened. I could just easily kill myself now, yet hear I am, blasted by my own dark sense of desire. I want to die, I desire it. A grim satisfaction fills my lungs as I speak of it. My brain is going stale. My growing insanity is influenced by my very being. How could I live on like this?
Laura Jones. I love her, but yet that tall necked fiend Kieran Stroud has it right to step into the way. My apparent friend has betrayed me, forming his own wall of insults for his daily worthship. I have feelings for his sister too but yet this wall is clearly blocking the way. What have I got to live for? Why bother? The contrast of power and love, none of which I have, fuel my fantasies. I love her, but who would love me? If I had the power I would have everyone who has ever insulted me killed in an instant. Evil, a power of which has a grasp, is holding me. I have fell into the abyss.
Blackness. Horrible blackness. The void of my own desirer. The bold is underlined by existence. Heck, I don’t even know what I'm saying anymore. The language of the soul? Poetry is useless, my friend. I am only in set 3 English, but yet is this set 1 work? The language of the soul. Fate; it must be tested. My destiny. My internal corrupted destiny. It’s sad to die at the age of 14, but if there’s a path wont sadness just flow anyway? My eyes are hiding the greater secret. Suicide. Blacked out eyes shall only be shown in the light of night. My minds falling in.
Shall I commit what shall not be committed? The height adjusting soundtrack called Ozar Midrashim is now playing, creating my own waves to corrupt these surrounding. I would never describe it as a happy track, no, but then it’s too far beyond sad to say that. I sit on this computer every single blasted day, nothing but forums, and nothing but insults from them. This is of a small exception. The ring of rope is circling my path. The very devil is on my very undoing. My death be with me. I am so bored within this corrupted shell. Life no longer interests me, but then again it never has. My death shall come.
I have been drowned into the fluid of hell. The noise is getting louder. The humming of the dark. Sense is of little sense to me now. I hate this rhythm. I should accept the sacrifice, leave the universe the way it is while I remove my own pointlessness from it. I will be forgotten within year. You know this is true. God has betrayed me, for I am no one. He is of little existence, but his purpose has been fulfilled. I should kill myself shortly. I have to. Souls swim over my drowned vassal. What’s left of it. Harassment of my own soul.
Spiritual infliction. My death won’t even reach the local newspaper, but this spiral only leads down. School shows little mercy. Insults will only be insults even beyond the reaches of creativity. Apparently I have no creativity, but then apparently I am a foolish gay mother f***ing retard-the rightful container of ‘a monges syndrome’. Hmm, ‘a monges syndrome’, foolish, and yet an A* in both maths and science? This is of little importance, the corruption has to end now. I need to break this seal. The life of which I have tried so hard to end. The spirit of a mad man. Has the abyss fallen into me?
I can be sad for the whole of my life, or dramatically bring it to an end. The two sides of a coin. I will never be happy, no one will love me. Death shall have to be touched, but there is a third option. I said myself, there is only two sides of a coin, but perhaps one day, after flicking the coin enough times, perhaps one day if lands on its edge? Could this ever happen? Could my fantasies come true? Coins have never landed on their edge, but perhaps it worth the gamble. I am selfish, big headed, (in more than one sense of the word) corrupt and evil. I deserve to die.
Sorry to quote all this, but it's just so captivating. What have you got to live for? By God, man, it's staring you in the face! Your written genius... It's beyond that of many professionals I've read the books of. Do you understand the magnitude of your skill? I can FEEL your pain, because you describe your misery and emotion so well. Why is it that you value the opinions of your peers so much? They can't accept you for looks or shyness, they step on your emotions? HA! You, sir are so far above the level of those who ridicule you that they are unable to understand your amazing talent. You know exactly who you are, and how you feel, and describe it readily and with excellent flair. Do you hear this? You are ABOVE them. Not because of looks, or personality or trivial things that have little meaning outside of school grounds, but because you understand yourself, even better than anyone understands themselves. WHO are they to judge someone they cannot understand? You cannot take what they say seriously at all. You can't pass good judgment if you don't understand what you are judging. They don't understand you; they are obviously not smart enough to comprehend the power of the words you speak. You have no power, you say? You, you have the greatest powers of all; the power of the mind, and the power of words. With those two things, there is nary a challenge you can't overcome. Those to things alone can make you unstoppable! The only thing that can stop you, is yourself. The very things you've written about, have consumed you, they have taken root in your mind. Find someone who is willing to give your writing a look, a publisher, an English teacher, or, in this case, a therapist. I guarantee, they will be consumed by the power of your pen. Focus on those things. You are much more gifted than you give yourself credit for, so find someone who can understand, and let them give you credit. You truly are a master of the English language, put it to good use. Society as a whole will greatly miss such a genius, at least I will. I look forward to seeing more of your writing. Don't let us down!
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Yes, My MSNM is the same as my e-mail, letter for letter, including the @yahoo.com
Where are you on the spectrum?
18 Apr 2009, 9:57 pm
