I’m not a good person. My uncle tells me that as a kid I was an angel. “Something sent from God,” he says. He says it like he’s eulogizing me, and although it bugs the shit out of me, it might actually be appropriate.
I’m not a good person. And I don’t say that out of despair or a lack of self esteem, I say it because it’s true. Because I do bad things.
Many of the things I’ve typed here have been lies. Stories I made up for my own entertainment. So I could watch all of you react to it. You can’t trust my words.
Sorry. Ill get a journal and leave you all alone from now on.
4 comments
I’m not entirely sure I believe you. There might be some truth in there, but I think that for whatever reason you don’t feel like you can post here. Your old posts are introspective. Genuine. Maybe you made some stuff up maybe you didn’t but you still felt the need to say something. I’d prefer if you stayed.
I’ve said it multiple times, I don’t believe in good or bad people, I believe in the behaviors that people choose. Categorizing people is an outlet to excuse various behaviors. Humans lie and tell stories, it is their defining feature. Most of the time they do it to themselves.
That memory through the lifespan class really did shatter any illusion I had in the accuracy of human speech and thought. The actual fidelity of human memory is lower than the lowest quality recording medium still in use today. So the way that you yourself remember it is probably wrong.
Who’s to say you even had an uncle?!
Which is what has resulted in me seeing the edits occuring in real time, because that’s how these errors are introduced. Other people say things and we think that sounds close enough. They of course are also working from an inaccurate record.
As to what really happened? More data is better, from more sources. The fewer sources, the less accurate. What happens while you’re alone might as well be dreams, for how applicable or useable it is.
Which is why mental illness isolates, without isolation it’s hard to spin into strange states of mind. Chemicals help, of course. You had indicated a desire to get better, what happened to that?
I think I probably relate more than I’m often willing to admit, I just lack guilt for it at this point. The pain I get, and inflict on myself when I don’t get enough in my day, that pain is all the pay I need in exchange for whatever evil or manipulation I might do. I have never worked for good people, they’ve all been utter monsters.
I’ve always preferred criminals and weirdos, and deep down I’ve always felt more like I was defined by what I didn’t do than what I did. I manipulate, and not only can I not stop, I seem to be leaning in. It’s what I’m paid for.
The story I tell, it is a story told from my eyes, from the way I see it. Told so that maybe someone will see it my way. To pervert the nature of reality just that much.
and good luck trying to stop. If you have been seeking out people, it’s a hunger you’ve fed, and trying to stop feeding it is hard to do. This is the nature of obsession behavior, indulgence and shame. Which is why I try to eliminate shame, because shame makes the trap all the more potent.
K.