soulless, broken person

I remember how when I was young I would at times cry my self to sleep missing my mother. She abandoned me when I was young. I told myself she had to be a pure person, despite all evidence to the contrary. And then when I got to know her, she turned out to be a golddigging whore in the guise of a religous woman who not only stole thousands  of dollars from her youngest daughter, but also married two men and mined both their bank accounts! My stepmother and father would sleep on their bed all day long (just like my mother) and watch one tv show after another and another and other – especially on Sundays. They never went to their supposed churches unless they were forced to. Yet if I did not attend one time, I was evil! I was supposed to act the part of religous hypocrit, just like all of them I suppose.

Doesn’t matter anyways.

I’ve inherited the worst of all of their evils, both genetic and otherwise. I know I’m a fuckup, but I don’t want to be evil. And that is why this is what it is. I am cursed and uncurable. I am a broken person. Like my mother, I leave a path of destruction wherever I go.

I remember when I saw, for the first time, a comic depicting the road to hell that was paved with good intentions – I thought it was hilarioius! It’s not so funny anymore.

Most would never believe me, understandably – I wouldn’t believe me, but the road to  hell is indeed paved with good intentions. Perhaps, if I had enough money to stay in college when I went the first time, if I had had adequete transportation, maybe then I would  have been able to be a force of good for the world.

After I dropped out of college, the last few pieces of my soul that still existed, the last remains of my motivation to live, to be happy…. they all turned to ash. Ever since then, I have felt more like a Terminator or a Zombie rather than  a human. It’s been so long since I’ve felt anywhere close to happy, that remembering what it’s like is almost like watching a movie on an old black and white TV with a piece of translucent (but not transparent) plastic in front of it.

Every time I try to do something, anything truly constructive, somehow I manage to fuck it up. Without question. Every. Single. Time. The system fucked me, i suppose, but I aided it greatly.

Two years ago, when I turned 23, I swore that if I hadn’t figured things out or at least was on a path where I could *honestly* see a future I would kill myself. I gave myself another year. Now, on the eve prior to my 25th birthday, which also marks the 10th year I’ve wanted to die, I cannot honestly say it will ever be possible to be “normal”, or at the least, to have the basics of the american dream – a car, healthy relationships, a small home…

I don’t see how I can make it if people much more smarter, intelligent, attractive, sensible, and in every important way better than me – like my brother MC – take their lives whether on purpose or by accident. He deserved to live! He was 99% perfect,god dammit! Everyone knows that. And then, there’s my brother J – the kid was a living angel, if a bit erratic. How is it that they are taken  from this earth, and I’m left here to destroy it? What kind of fucking God allows shit like this to happen!? Not one that gives a shit!!!