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I think I'm going to leave.
| Maybe I'm just self-destructive. Maybe deep down inside I hate myself and I hide it beneath layers upon layers of illusions, the surface layers being the illusion that I actually like myself, the middle layers being the illusion that I think I'm going to find some sort of deep insight or guide to the universe, and the bottom layers being the half-truth that I'm a nihilist who doesn't give a fuck about anybody or anything, and simply wants to hurt myself because fuck it, why not?
| I've always hated the concept of "finding yourself". Its a false reality, that deep down inside yourself exists some answers as to the nature of your own identity, >as if you aren't in control of it.
The truth is, you don't "find yourself", you forge yourself against the fires of your experiences. The choices you make mold and shape you into the person you are and takes you through the experiences you create for yourself.
So if that's the truth, why do I choose to be this way?
| I am actively making choices to degrade my sanity and turn myself into a person that I don't want to be, even though I never see myself as that person.
And no, I don't have a problem. I'm an adult, and I can make my own damn choices, no matter what anybody else wants to say. I only have a problem if I am the one who acknowledges that I have a problem.
And yes, I have a problem, but it isn't the one you think it is.
| My problem is that I'm not steering the ship. My problem is that, in a life where I am responsible for creating myself, I've actively chosen to turn it on autopilot and stopped caring about the destination. I used to think that was the best way to live, to not plan for any determined future because life will throw random-ass wrenches in any plan I make, so instead, I should just live my life and stop worrying about where I'll end up, or more specifically, >who I'll end up as.
| It isn't about my choices, because the truth is: I've stopped making choices, I've stopped thinking about the choices I'm >>>not making, and I've stopped thinking that choices are even a thing.
Who gives a shit? I'm fucked anyway. We all are. I hate this all. I hate me. I hate you. I hate everyone. Drop out of school, do drugs, make dumb decisions, harm myself at every fucking turn.
I love you all the same.
I hate being such a stubborn bitch about things.
| But, if I am the person I am because of the choices I've made, maybe I should accept myself for the person I am: A temperamental, self-destructive, masochistic, manic freak of a human being who had a bright life and decided to snuff the light out myself merely because I enjoy being the underdog, I enjoy losing, I enjoy being a disappointment to the people who care about me and I enjoy sadness. I had the advantage when I was younger, then I chose to take it away from myself.
| There is no such thing as the future, because you can only ever live in the present. The future doesn't exist until you make it in the present. We human beings are trapped in this one dimension of thought, the present, and while it is torment at times, it shapes our perception of things and helps us form our identity, our ego.
...and I think I just figured out the reason I want to make these choices: I want to kill my ego.
Now that I have clear intentions, its time to go wild.
| >END MESSAGE
| Do what you gotta do my anon,
| Bye anon,
I wonder if i know this
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| >An unidentified file type is downloadable, titled "Thoughts that'll disappear in the morning". It opens into a random text browser, with the ramblings of some off-the-wall anon. The text has no context.
It isn't any individual person's fault but my own, but my presence seems to be bothersome towards more people with the passing day. Of course, I could choose to do the smart things, to try and improve my life, but I've decided that's not what I want. Why? I don't know.