Sunday, January 16, 2011

Anger Rising

The only direction we flow is down. It's easy to tell others not beat up yourself over mistakes, something that as human beings we will infinitely make throughout the course of our existence, and have. I can't help but to feel sick with some of the decisions I've made in my life. We must grow from mistakes, and I have in nearly every aspect of my life made a significant rebound and fixed the problems, the mistakes that I have made. One in particular I can not seem to grasp, to overcome, to feel any less than nauseous when I think about it.

I struggle, being a positive person who looks for the general best of the group or person to my left or right, when I try and deal with this. Broken heart upon my own accord. I know how Leo felt in Inception when he was the cause of his wife's suicide. I feel the same. That I am to blame for the one the things I love to constantly push me away. I say too many of the things that are true. I'm too real, and sometimes have to much realization about situations that I am. I try to be a nice guy, and it most always backfires in one way or another.

I put a lot of faith into people and humanity, but it's a sad betrayal to myself, something that probably only the French have a word for. It's self-degradation to put faith, to put trust into people, because in the end they will always and surely let you down. You expand yourself for others, and they'll be thankful, but only long enough to turn around, use, abuse, and spit in your face. It shouldn't be the way it is. It tears me apart and leaves me feeling sick with stupidity for ever putting myself out there for anyone. I just want to turn into a cocoon and have you, and everyone else leave me alone.

It's true, we can't always get what we want. But in my lifetime, anything I've truly desired to have in my life, I have worked hard and figured out a way to achieve, to buy, to possess what it is I desire. I've been fortunate enough to never have to cross anyone to do it either. But this scenario, it seems impossible. It's not my emotions, not my feelings that I must change, that I must go after, it's the feelings of another. How do you convince someone that you are the best thing for them? You can't, no matter how hard you try, no matter how well you articulate yourself, how well you prove or show that you would do anything for them. You're not Bruno Mars, you're more, and it's just not enough.

I keep waiting for this to be a nightmare, for it to end. It's to harsh, to vivid, to terrifying a feeling that lets me know it's not one, that I'm not asleep. Additionally, it could never be one since I can't sleep. The insomnia has returned, much as it was in Iraq. For the same reason, the self-realization comes into play. There's no sleep because I question everything that I ever believed to be true, and mostly the same question comes to play. My trust and faith in people whom I've given my heart to, my love to, my everything to. It's unfair, in a very unfair world, and my accepting of it has become something of a unfair challenge. I question how I will grow, or digress from this situation. Not every event in life you come out a better person, you can only hope to. Some events you learn nothing from, only to question if you've been living your life in the light of what you thought was right. The shades of gray you see now turn black and white and then back to gray before you can distinguish what turned which way.

I try and surround myself with good people, but as I've learned, those are a dying breed. There is not many people in this world that would stop whatever it is they are doing to save you in a dire time of need. People who see obstacles and stop, turn around, and cry about it is what we've been headed towards. It's sickening. We have an excuse for everything and every problem. There is no moxie, there is no perseverance, there is no hard work left in this world. Not from Americans at least, and our country, we have become infected with it. Helping the minority even if it hurts the majority. Making excuses for everything, and not pushing through the hardest things to get what we want. We give up. We surrender. We are cowards. We face a little adversity as Americans, as people in this world and we find an excuse to quit, a scapegoat to make ourselves feel less guilty about being selfish. That's all we are, a bunch of pre-madonna-don't-want-to-work-hard-and-find-an-excuse-to-be-assholes-to-each-other-and-never-take-responsibility-for-the-way-we-let-others-down, just so we can have it our way.


When I leave, there be no goodbye. It will be shockingly abrupt.

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