Sunday Night Ramble: Goals, gore and guilt. And fucking children. (Not literally, mind you)

There is no goal that I have yet to discover that would possibly seem realistic, rational or even in the name of “good” whether that be for myself or for others, that would compel me to keep living.. I have never particularly strived to improve the quality of life for others so it is only selfish and hypocritical of me to complain about my own degraded, dull, lifeless existence.

The criteria and fulfillment that many people seem to have and encourage hold no meaning to me. I don’t see the motives or reason behind such actions or choices that would justify its rationality. One of these goals and expectations that are seemingly proposed to me is to concept of success. There is no concrete definition for this nor do I believe that there is a point where one is truly successful. What is success? Is it the point where you are finally content and satisfied with your life? Or is it the moment when you accomplish what you had originally intended to overcome and achieve? Perhaps it is a mix, balance and compromise of both ideas.

There are roles that are expected of me that seemingly guarantee me a “happy” and “satisfying” existence. One of these is to produce/create a family. I realize I am a bit young for this but it has been alarming to me that the pressure for young women such as myself to marry and even reproduce has increased so quickly and so dramatically. I personally feel no pressure to abide or fulfill this need, simply because I do not see the point in it. Although it is human nature to want to reproduce and create a “family” I’ve come to realize I no longer want a family. My family has cut me off long ago. It is not the bitter resentment from that which has made me come to such a conclusion. It is simply that I feel the idea of it is irrational and simply an indoctrination imposed on me. Not only do I not trust myself or deem myself worthy or capable of caring for another person who is genetically related to me, I think it is cruel to spawn another creature who is similar to me into this world. I wish not to bring another innocent, virgin life into this world that will suffer the same way I do/did. Even if this theoretical offspring of mine did find happiness in this hellish world I don’t see that it would be genuine, non-brainwashed, indoctrinated happiness. I believe that you cannot be truly happy and satisfied with this life unless you have been captured by the illusion of a happy world, your perception twisted and corrupted by the power of your own “success”. Genuine belief is the strongest and most effective method of controlling and brainwashing. If you can truly convince yourself that life is good by looking through tinted glasses then eventually the world will become “good” “happy” and “perfect” according to your perception. And you will truly and sincerely believe it to be such. It will become your reality.
I don’t think I could bear the emotional burden of watching my own child; my flesh and blood; be damned to suffer from the hollow emptiness and true misery that this world has become. If there were such thing as a truly “good deed” and if I were ever to commit such an act I think the refusal to bring another child into this world would be that. I will not hurt another human being by letting them into this world. By thinking beyond the images and illusions that have been cast upon so many people: of happy families and cute children- I have spared the innocence and agony of another soul. By reading between the lines and seeing what birth really is. A monster, a reaper of innocence. No child is innocent. Life fucks them the moment they take their first breath. A child does not belong in this world. Nothing belongs in this world. Not anymore. Not ever.

I no longer feel any attachment to these despicable creatures that infest this planet and the revolting society it has created. I see each of these creatures as unique individuals but inside they all lust and crave something, which can make them quite identical in some ways. Each of them -myself included- yearn for power. Just a taste of the addictive, terribly lethal substance sends some spiraling into the claws of hell, just for more. Power over others, power over themselves. There is nothing more on this Earth but a struggle for efficient power. I refuse to rot in such a place, a place where everyone works only for benefits of themselves. Such is human nature and inevitable. Life itself is selfish in its own form and nothing more. Every good deed on this Earth has a self-serving purpose, there is no such thing as a truly selfless act. Everything in this life disgusts me. The type of people in it, their actions and inactions, their shameful sense of morality and yet most people go about their day like the world is flowers and sunshine rather than the deterioration and misfortune that goes unnoticed and passes under their noses on a day-to-day basis. Those who deem themselves good people but do no good, despite being granted the opportunity to do such, and so often.
I rot in this ugly world, ruled by greed, ignorance and violence. Such a hideous world. I’ve given up trying to see the beauty of this life while it reeks of rot and decay. This world is lined with false hope and riddled with grief and loss. I feel a hatred just as strong towards myself. I strongly loathe myself for possessing the very qualities which have corrupted my life and those of endless, voiceless others. I no longer live in this life, I decay in it. Wasting away, working jobs I hate to live a life I hate. I’ve traded my freedom and sanity for the bare minimum of life. I’m caught inside a system that does nothing but abuse me for my endless toil. This life has no value or meaning, the days are long and redundant. I’ve lost sense of the world and why I am in it. I am replaceable.

My usual nature is bitter and uncaring. I’m not usually an over-emotional person, but this week has been on my charts as one of the worst. My emotions and thinking have been bizarre and sporadic with spontaneous bursts of strange, subdued contentment in between. The constant inconsistency (a lethal contradiction) is overwhelming. For the first time in months I had a public breakdown. It was while I was working actually to make it even more humiliating. I just broke down and started sobbing hysterically. What the hell is wrong with me? What triggered such a random, unusual act in me is still a mystery. I had suddenly been taken hold by this frustrating. crippling feeling of hopelessness. The clash of my intense will to die, my subconscious will to live and the sad rationality and reasons of why I cannot continue to live. Life is moving on without me and I do not possess the energy to keep up with its constant changes. I desperately do not want to be left behind but at the same time the want to given in conflicts me. There is no role for me to play in this life, nor is there a role I would like to play. I am simply an outcast. A reject of this life. “Consider me a faceless representation of depression. An anonymous death seeker. A hopeless nobody.”
I realize none of this makes any sense. Forgive my ramblings.