i,, am so very sick of things.
of how i am, so very needy. grasping for attention, because i never want to feel alone. everyone says i am a good person, but i am really not. i am a self-centred coward. i am so sick of hearing the things that my parents say. discussing, complaining, about one thing or another. usually someone in relation to family, work, or a family friend. their faults, their faults, co-workers faults, or other. complaining and complaining. i am exhausted, because i am dwelling on things i cannot change. my life, being one of them. i am so powerless it is pathetic. i can't even control myself. i feel ill, nauseated from one thing or other. i don't feel like eating. i feel like an utter burden to my friends, for how desperate i have been as late. so very afraid of the mere thought of disclosing preferences, or emotion to the women whom calls herself my goddess. i am tired of feeling alone. of feeling useless. of being a failure to those around me, and doing this 'venting' thing so often, crying for attention like a two year old. i am so confused, so very baffled by my mother. she is told to be so very cruel, but i cannot see it, for i am used to the oppression. i am such a burden because of it, my fears, my leaning on people. expressing my confusion, my sorrow, and my anger so often over it when i do not mean to. i am a disgrace to people. to this race i was borne into life for. my purpose is to be a tool, i suppose. never to get a happy ending, or is that too pessimistic? i am afraid of asking for help, because i do not want to overwhelm people. i fear my mother. i just,, feel so alone and i cannot comprehend why. i have such lovely friends. just make it stop, please. i wish for the complaining to stop, their voices not to be so cruel and grating. i wish not to feel ill over my preferences, or my emotion. for the remarks to end. for confidence. but alas, those will never come, will they? i wonder if there is an afterlife better than this, unless i shall go to eternal torment in which i deserve for my preferences. my feelings of,, ungratefulness. neigh, the cage i am too afraid to leave. for it is all i know. please. make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop i want the ill-emotions to go away, please i can barely stand it anymore.
- Published December 20, 2019, 18:58
- in Kiddie Pool
- in Vents and or Rants
- is not continuable by others
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