I am everything wrong; my most beautiful excuse is that I am a product of my time. I am the demon of wrath because I find a flaw in everything but have no ability to create peace of it. If I don’t stroke, I will continue to rain terror on those around me whom I try to call liars but are only honest with themselves against the entity that is me. I am not allowed to scream because only I can be screamed at. I am seeking attention and glorification because I surround myself with intriguing things that distract from my ugly side. It’s not until someone sticks around long enough that they realize it was too long. My gaiety is the ultimate signal of the farce that is my life; the things I laugh at, that should never be laughed at, the things I attack that should never be attacked; my self control is non existent. You can’t help me, because I would hate to see you try. Only I can help you, according to my record, to your fulfillment and my demise. If I had said it the other way around, again, the effect would be opposite what I say; always has, always will be.
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As you can tell, I’m not only illiterate but just plain stupid. If this isn’t a cry for help, I don’t know what is.
You don’t sound illiterate or stupid to me. Maybe a bit overwhelmed. What kind of ‘help’ are you looking for?
My most beautiful excuse is: I’m the son of tragedy.
You look like someone who has seen paradoxes in everything and act opposite of what is expected because it atleast feels like some choice.
As conflicted as your post sounds, I see the sublime logic in every word. Life, in particular human society, is wrong on so many levels and yet everyone seems to go about their business with a cheery smile on their face. People are being exterminated by the millions for the way they look, rich Princes and politicians alike build their swimming pools with the blood of their victims and nobody calls them out. Somewhere in china is a bile farm where panda bears are being painfully milked through their gallbladders for 20 years just because some Chinese fuck thinks their bile will help him get a hard on. When I see beyond my nose I feel exactly as you do, hobojoe. I want to tear everything to the ground with my teeth and myself along with it. But instead it’s back to the hypocrisy of living, the “farce of gaiety” as you said. And of all the things I hate in the world, I hate myself most for not doing anything about it. I’m sorry, I don’t have a single hopeful thought to offer you, but if nothing else maybe you can find comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one who realizes the simple truth: we’re fucked :/
Honestly, my outbursts of torment are like a winding of my own clock. I notice that I become outrageous when I am stagnant in my life: sitting, waiting, looking as I have for too long. I have many things to be proud of, but as soon as I let that pride into me, I become complacent, and from that grows the inevitable vileness. I want the world to know how good I am at helping others, only because I know how easy it is to tear them down. But I’m incompetent, to the luck of my victims, and they see only my vile nature, not what I’m trying to tell them; I’m trying to tell them what they have done to me, and why I can not pity them as they pity me. Only when my mouth is shut do I realize my pity for them, and then a backlash of wanton thoughts of why I must never pity; pity is evil, it’s why I am here right now, because of mother and father issues, because my sister was raped and I couldn’t understand. I would claw at them, first with their faults, and then recently with only my faults: I can not comprehend their dishonest facility. I come to a point where honesty is all that is wicked, as I see how my actions of honest preaching create my own discouragement; I am incompetent. My greatest strength is taking things apart, but I feel a calling to put things together, but I have no knowledge, only guesses and whims off fleeting proofs that honesty is worth the world; my conviction is weak. When I hear that “we’re fucked” I want to face the demon hiding in our midst, but my own demon corrupts me at every step; I am everything I wish I wasn’t, unhelpful.
I believe that if I could relinquish my insatiable desire to be admired, I would have no need for this website, that I could get things done without due process of unwarranted pain, that I could help myself help others in a way that never involves pity, but true good-will, without pride, wrath, envy, lust; without the fear of God binding me as a sloth.
I think it’s ok to let pride be your driving force. As much as people call it a “sin” or whatever, pride, vanity & desire for admiration has led to some great things. The pyramids, the Library of Alexander the Great, the (insert name here) wing of the Children’s Hospital. All of these things are driven by someone’s desire for admiration. I don’t see the selfless types like Buddha or Jesus making million dollar donations to homeless shelters, even though they are “purer” in soul than Bill Gates.
Again, not that I have any correct answers, but I think sometimes we get caught up in being a good person while forgetting that the important part is to accomplish good things. If wrath, fury and vanity can drive you to build things and potentially make the world a better place, go for it. You may not get a gold star in heaven, but at least on earth you’ll make a difference.
If only I could fake it till I make it.