Why do I do this?
What makes living worth its suffering?
What do I have to live for, what have I?
I have nothing. I haven't even the decency to assume that there is someone out there who cares for me. Because no one cares. No one can care. It's impossible to care just to care.
And it's such a bother and a pain, of guilt, to deny that people care about me.
To care you must have some reason why. Maybe it's because you like the person about whom you care, maybe it's because you're compensating for something, maybe it's because it would kill you with guilt if you cared about no one. I know it does me.
It's odd that I have a conscience, but hardly any real morals.
But there is always some reason for caring associated with the self. There's always the Self. You cannot be Selfless. You wouldn't be human.
Maybe you care about a person because they're your child, or your lover, or your misstress or your co-worker, or your friend. But there's always some variation of the first or second person singular pronouns. There's always a variation of "you" or "I" or both.
I care about you.
But I don't care about You. I don't care about You at all. And it drives me up the fucking wall, drives me insane how much I don't care, but how much fucking guilt I feel.
I don't care, but I'm guilty. I'm guilty of not caring. I'm guilty because I'm supposed to care.
And I don't like relationships because I can't care. I can't care. And You will undoubtedly tell me that You care about me, and I--I will never believe it because I don't know what it means to care. I don't know what it's like to care about something enough to fight for it. I don't know. I only know what it's like when I can't say something and be honest about how I feel. I only know the guilt associated with this lack of knowledge. Because my lack of knowledge makes it doubly unfair. Wholly unfair. Because I don't care about You, but You care about me.
And I cannot do that to myself.
I will not do that to myself.
I will not engage in a non-mutual relationship.
I will not laden my Self with guilt.
I don't want to feel guilty.
I don't want to not care about You.
I just don't.
And I can't help it.
And I wish I did care, but that has never helped me.
Friday, April 17, 2009
No sounds, just black coffee.
There are so many things I do not understand. So many things I do not wish to tell you. That's not what I meant. I meant there are so...many things I cannot say I believe in.
Love, that's the main thing. I don't believe in love. I don't know what the difference between Love and Like is; how am I to believe one is stronger than the other if I don't know where to draw the line? It's just strange fanaticism. I'm a fanatic.
And I need someone. I need someone to like. I need someone to like me back. I need physical comforts. I need it. I need physical contact with someone of the opposite sex. I don't need sex. I just need to touch, need to feel. Need to feel loved? Perhaps I do need to feel loved. Perhaps I do need to relate to someone. I just need that, I need someone, I need you near me.
Coincidence and Fate. I don't believe in either of those things, but I am not a miscreant. I do not know that either of those things exist. I do not pretend to assume that things happen for a reason. I do not pretend to assume that things happen for no predetermined reason. I do not wish to take a side in the matter. I simply don't. And yet society will force me to, by asking but a simple question. And shall I give this answer? Most certainly not, I feel. I shall be stupefied that someone would think--be so careless to affront me so. It is an offense to assume that I have an opinion. It is also normal.
Good and Evil. There are so many shades of gray that all you need is something to search for. Whatever catches your eye, whatever does that, well, I can't say it says anything about you at all. But you either look for the lightest or the darkest tints or the lightest and the darkest shades. You look for the best and the good Good or the lesser and the greater Evil. Odd that sentence should be worded so, it seems to me now, but how else could I have said that? The good and the best Evil? That would assume something that might not be true, that you are evil. Or that you are looking for the lightest shades of black. The grays verging on that solitary white, that impure purity.
Purity, Innocence, etc. Such a drawback, but I understand their purposes. No one, not even children, can this be true of. Knowing about Evil does not make it Evil. It is the fact that it goes against set standards that makes it Evil, not it's precocious knowledge. You can do Evil without knowing you are doing Evil, but you are still doing Evil. A child does know what is wrong, but that doesn't make it right. That is no justification. Not in this world, I find. Society will always punish wrongdoers, no matter their negligence or the severity of their crime. There's always someone to give you that pestering smack on the hand.
I do not ever pretend to know any of these things; I do not pretend to believe that these are true. These are just...thoughts to reflect upon, as is everything else I do.
But I always lose the interest of looking back, no matter how strong the urge is at first.
Love, that's the main thing. I don't believe in love. I don't know what the difference between Love and Like is; how am I to believe one is stronger than the other if I don't know where to draw the line? It's just strange fanaticism. I'm a fanatic.
And I need someone. I need someone to like. I need someone to like me back. I need physical comforts. I need it. I need physical contact with someone of the opposite sex. I don't need sex. I just need to touch, need to feel. Need to feel loved? Perhaps I do need to feel loved. Perhaps I do need to relate to someone. I just need that, I need someone, I need you near me.
Coincidence and Fate. I don't believe in either of those things, but I am not a miscreant. I do not know that either of those things exist. I do not pretend to assume that things happen for a reason. I do not pretend to assume that things happen for no predetermined reason. I do not wish to take a side in the matter. I simply don't. And yet society will force me to, by asking but a simple question. And shall I give this answer? Most certainly not, I feel. I shall be stupefied that someone would think--be so careless to affront me so. It is an offense to assume that I have an opinion. It is also normal.
Good and Evil. There are so many shades of gray that all you need is something to search for. Whatever catches your eye, whatever does that, well, I can't say it says anything about you at all. But you either look for the lightest or the darkest tints or the lightest and the darkest shades. You look for the best and the good Good or the lesser and the greater Evil. Odd that sentence should be worded so, it seems to me now, but how else could I have said that? The good and the best Evil? That would assume something that might not be true, that you are evil. Or that you are looking for the lightest shades of black. The grays verging on that solitary white, that impure purity.
Purity, Innocence, etc. Such a drawback, but I understand their purposes. No one, not even children, can this be true of. Knowing about Evil does not make it Evil. It is the fact that it goes against set standards that makes it Evil, not it's precocious knowledge. You can do Evil without knowing you are doing Evil, but you are still doing Evil. A child does know what is wrong, but that doesn't make it right. That is no justification. Not in this world, I find. Society will always punish wrongdoers, no matter their negligence or the severity of their crime. There's always someone to give you that pestering smack on the hand.
I do not ever pretend to know any of these things; I do not pretend to believe that these are true. These are just...thoughts to reflect upon, as is everything else I do.
But I always lose the interest of looking back, no matter how strong the urge is at first.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
"Daft Punk is Playing at My House" LCD Soundsystem
Why do I do this?
I often wonder about that. But it seems nonsensical. It makes sense. It doesn't make sense. Nothing does, everything does.
I think no one is better at pushing my buttons than myself.
I do hate myself.
I love myself.
I don't understand why people like me so much.
I don't see it.
I'm stupid.
I'm foolish, childish, naive, silly.
I lack self-esteem and self-confidence.
I'm a stupid little shit who thinks she's got it all. This little shit thinks she's got it made, that she does.
This little fucker thinks pretty, long words will get her out of anything. This little fucker thinks she's all that and a bag of chips.
And then there's this...this being. I won't call her a girl.
And she's...sometimes she's pretty amazing. And sometimes I love her briefly. Just a glimpse, a mud-covered stone that's been wiped at a certain spot by circumstance. That is how she thrives.
Otherwise, she's just a stupid little piece of shit just taking up room.
And even this description of that little fucker is a little fucking biased.
But the song is over and it's 11:03 at night and I am tired and hungry and hurt all over.
I need to cry sometime soon.
Goddamn that sounds so emo.
But I need it.
I'd love to love you, you know.
I'd love to know you. I'd love for you to love me back.
But the chances of that...are slim to none.
And if I continue this, you shall only hate me as much as me hates me.
I often wonder about that. But it seems nonsensical. It makes sense. It doesn't make sense. Nothing does, everything does.
I think no one is better at pushing my buttons than myself.
I do hate myself.
I love myself.
I don't understand why people like me so much.
I don't see it.
I'm stupid.
I'm foolish, childish, naive, silly.
I lack self-esteem and self-confidence.
I'm a stupid little shit who thinks she's got it all. This little shit thinks she's got it made, that she does.
This little fucker thinks pretty, long words will get her out of anything. This little fucker thinks she's all that and a bag of chips.
And then there's this...this being. I won't call her a girl.
And she's...sometimes she's pretty amazing. And sometimes I love her briefly. Just a glimpse, a mud-covered stone that's been wiped at a certain spot by circumstance. That is how she thrives.
Otherwise, she's just a stupid little piece of shit just taking up room.
And even this description of that little fucker is a little fucking biased.
But the song is over and it's 11:03 at night and I am tired and hungry and hurt all over.
I need to cry sometime soon.
Goddamn that sounds so emo.
But I need it.
I'd love to love you, you know.
I'd love to know you. I'd love for you to love me back.
But the chances of that...are slim to none.
And if I continue this, you shall only hate me as much as me hates me.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
"If You Want" Tom Vek
The titles for all my blogs will just end up being songs. I don't know why, I just can't think of titles.
It has become very difficult for me to not hate the world. It's not that the world has taken from me more than I was willing to give. I am accommodating in that sense. It's just that the world has not given me what it once promised, and I've learned that no one makes promises they can keep. Everyone goes out of their way to keep promises; it's not one of those things that just comes to you. At least, it doesn't appear that way to me.
I dislike it when people have opinions, but instead of voicing them in a non-assertive manner, they treat them as facts. "That band sucks!" Well, I'm glad you think so, but really? Because I listen to Tom Vek and I don't think he sucks. That must not be true, then.
"Well it is! He does suck!"
How could you possibly know he sucks? Do you even listen to him?
"Yeah, I've heard one of his songs and it SUCKED ass!"
Oh really? Just one song? Because he's made an album, and he has at least five songs. I still don't think any of his songs "suck ass" so it's still not true.
"Yes it is."
No it's not. For him to suck, it would have to be a fact. It's not a fact, it's an opinion.
It's not, "Tom Vek sucks!" it's, "I don't like Tom Vek."
People should learn the difference. Especially when it comes to political issues like abortion and gay marriage. They're not facts, they're beliefs and opinions. Treat them as such.
If you don't, it's like treating a car like a pair of roller blades.
It's stupid, to me.
I wish I had someone my age to talk to who would actually provide decent conversation other than Monica.
I'm taking drum lessons from Evan, definitely. I want to learn, and I want to be good at it, at playing drums.
And I suppose I have Near to talk to, but he often takes a while to respond (conflicting/different schedules and whatnot) and he's one of those superficial people. Not superficial as in can't-have-decent-conversation-with superficial, but in the don't-go-too-deeply-into-the-details kind of superficial. It's because we're strangers to each other. I want to ask him for his name, but I feel it would affront him. It might not do that, but he might choose to not give it. I'm not sure why I don't ask him.
I almost have asked him, too. I almost asked him, but then I erased the question. If he will give me his name, he will give it to me. That or I will tire of not knowing his name and ask him.
It has become very difficult for me to not hate the world. It's not that the world has taken from me more than I was willing to give. I am accommodating in that sense. It's just that the world has not given me what it once promised, and I've learned that no one makes promises they can keep. Everyone goes out of their way to keep promises; it's not one of those things that just comes to you. At least, it doesn't appear that way to me.
I dislike it when people have opinions, but instead of voicing them in a non-assertive manner, they treat them as facts. "That band sucks!" Well, I'm glad you think so, but really? Because I listen to Tom Vek and I don't think he sucks. That must not be true, then.
"Well it is! He does suck!"
How could you possibly know he sucks? Do you even listen to him?
"Yeah, I've heard one of his songs and it SUCKED ass!"
Oh really? Just one song? Because he's made an album, and he has at least five songs. I still don't think any of his songs "suck ass" so it's still not true.
"Yes it is."
No it's not. For him to suck, it would have to be a fact. It's not a fact, it's an opinion.
It's not, "Tom Vek sucks!" it's, "I don't like Tom Vek."
People should learn the difference. Especially when it comes to political issues like abortion and gay marriage. They're not facts, they're beliefs and opinions. Treat them as such.
If you don't, it's like treating a car like a pair of roller blades.
It's stupid, to me.
I wish I had someone my age to talk to who would actually provide decent conversation other than Monica.
I'm taking drum lessons from Evan, definitely. I want to learn, and I want to be good at it, at playing drums.
And I suppose I have Near to talk to, but he often takes a while to respond (conflicting/different schedules and whatnot) and he's one of those superficial people. Not superficial as in can't-have-decent-conversation-with superficial, but in the don't-go-too-deeply-into-the-details kind of superficial. It's because we're strangers to each other. I want to ask him for his name, but I feel it would affront him. It might not do that, but he might choose to not give it. I'm not sure why I don't ask him.
I almost have asked him, too. I almost asked him, but then I erased the question. If he will give me his name, he will give it to me. That or I will tire of not knowing his name and ask him.
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