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#KiteARMY Be Part Of The Problem. To Hell With Solutions.

I've been dying to say something to someone. Anyone that I don't know that can't gossip or even know who I am. Writing this won't fix my problems, but it might give me a little bit of relief to know that someone somewhere is going to hear me.

I have no reason to live that I know of. I didn't have a happy childhood. I barely had a childhood at all, really. I wasn't beaten, abused, neglected. It was by all means normal. Except that nothing happened. Nothing. I never had any friends. For whatever reason all my friends seemed to move away. I never really had a good friend until about grade seven. Thankfully he's still around. But he has other friends, and so does everyone else. I never seem to keep friends. They either eventually get tired of me, or they just eventually turn out to be so goddamned stupid that they're a burden on me. Well, there is one other person, but I'll get to that in a minute.

My parents were extremely over protective of me. They still are. Of course, I used to revere them as the rulers of my universe, so I listened. I rarely broke rules, tried to follow their example. I always used to do my absolute best to never offend anyone. To be polite and to bitch as little as possible. Lately I've gone the other way, but I still feel confined by their rules. I try not to be, but I can't help it. My one other friend to be mentioned later says that she thinks that I'm "The happiest person she knows". Why? Because I'm always up beat and joking around with the people around me. I'm friendly to strangers. Some wonderful hippy'ish person I worked with once said I have the perfect personality to make loads of tips at one of those restaurants that people visit because the staff is creative and hilarious. That might be true. I like to make people laugh. I've been told by a lot of people that I'm a thinker, or mature for my age. But that's part of the stiff upper lip mentality I was raised with. Fear? What's that? Pain? Just a flesh wound. I hate pain. And I know what fear is. I'm a coward. I just try not to show it around other people, or spend my private moments trying to prove to myself otherwise. A lot of my time I psych myself up for the next inevitable conflict.

Going through school, I was definitely one of the uncool. Or rather, the unseen. I could get along with most of the people in most of the different peer groups. The losers, the druggies, the nerds, some of the popular, and a large variety of other misfits. I've always been a gifted linguist. Well, sometimes I come up totally dead, but I can pick up and carry on a conversation with most strangers with ease. I listen, understand, comprehend, answer with intelligent opinions generally. I've been told so.

If I were happy with my life, I'd love nothing more than to be some kind of counsellor. I can always make people see the different sides of things, unless they're the ultra-stubborn type, and even then I can usually work around that with time and some underhandedness. But it seems like no one else seems to have the trait. To everyone else, my family, my 'friends' my co-workers, doctors, police, whoever. You name it, whoever they are, I can see right into them, they thing solely about themself. Doctors look at me like a puzzle to be solved. Psychiatric workers only think they know what I'm talking about. I've taken several psychology courses and they quote word for word from the text books. I've walked every one I've encountered to wherever I feel like taking them. I've aquired prescriptions for things I don't need. It's not like I'm doing it just for fun, I know a few other 'depressed' people who do that sort of thing for kicks. But when I try to be honest and open with counsellors, I either don't feel comfortable with them, or I can tell that they aren't actually listening, they're just looking for keys words or phrases that would put me into a category. And once they put me into that category, they can give themselves a pat on the back and go onto the next case. So I just place myself into a category for them and move on.

No one listens. The ones so far that have tried just give off the impression that they feel obligated to help this poor soul a little, or that it would make themselves feel good to help. Which is better than most people. At least 80% of the people I've met only want to talk about themselves. That's it. There is no one else. They listen to you just to complete the requirements that define a conversation, or to hear someone else validate their point of view.

I'm also a general failure. I slept through school, never really had a problem with it, except math. I cannot do math. At all. I'm more on the linguistic artistic side of things. I had to take Language correspondence because I thought my language teacher was an idiot. Most people agree with me on that.

After I graduated I went to college for a year. I'd assume sleeping through school is what left me with no study habits, and I did pretty miserable. I never even looked at my grades. Ever. To this day I have no idea what I got, I just know I didn't do very well at all. I met a few people there that I thought were really good people though, and I want to go back to a school somewhere just to find some companionship.

After dropping out, I went into the work force as a labourer. Lovely. I don't mind the people I work with, a lot of them are really good people, but I feel like a total loser now. None of them have read a book in their entire lives, most never graduated, and a good handful did some decent prison terms. Don't get me wrong, I don't look down on them, in fact, I envy them. They're all relatively happy with their lives, and several have families and are satisfied and secure. This just was not the way I intended to end up.

To sum up everything thus far, up until I dropped out of college, I lived a completely uneventful childhood, never really doing anything, or going anywhere, playing by myself on the playground and at home, reading, writing, video games. I was always shy. As a matter of fact, until I left school, I never even realised that I had trouble looking people in the eye. I can't remember when I figured it out, but now that I can look people in the eye when I speak to them, I know now just how terrified I was of plain, simple reality.

After dropping out, moving, and beginning work, I tried to start up fresh and not only engaged everyone around me, but started rebelling. Since highschool, I was well on my way to becoming an alcoholic. I'd been getting drunk on and off since I was fourteen, and I'd been getting drunk every day from grade 12 up until about a month ago, when I started trying to quit. I smoked a fair amount of pot in high school too, but when I started work, it got ridiculous. Everyone there smokes dope. I met up with someone of importance by fluke and even started running drugs for awhile. Pounds of dope, even the odd shipment of coke. I'd keep a pound in my cupboard and a tray piled high with the largest joints I could roll, a lock box with pills, scales, all the usual accessories, and often I'd have some of the harder stuff laying around that I would occassionally dip into. Go on the occassional several day coke binge on my days off.

Then eventually, one day, I was out in the country side with a buddy of sorts when suddenly I got this crippling anxiety attack. I had no fucking clue what was going on, but I suddenly got a rush, while I was on nothing but dope, and heart palpitations. I thought for sure I was going to die. One really hard one hit me, and it hurt. Dropped me right to my knees. I was scared absolutely shitless.

Being the smartass trooper I was raised to be, I diagnosed it as a heart condition and told my buddy I'd go to the doctor, but never did. Until one day at work it started happening again, nothing that dropped me, but I was waiting for it to happen. I had my boss take me to the emergency room so that I was near medical help when the inevitable happened. Long story short, I was diagnosed with an anxiety disorder with possible depression and had to talk to a psychiatric nurse, where my first attempt at honesty almost put me in rehab, had my quick talking, backtracking and run-around manouvers not saved me. Over the next little while I was run through several different doctors and medications. They tried to send me to a psych ward a couple of times and I've been brought in by police and taken to hospital only to talk my way out of everything. I need help. I know it. But unless I find someone who seems to be... self-actualized? I'm just going to keep dodging the bullet. Of course, this just means that my problems keep building, and building, and for the last couple of months, my brain seems to be getting the better of me and I keep thinking that the only way out is to just put a gun to my head and end it. There's been a few times where I would have already, except that a gun is the only way I could stand to end my life. It needs to be absolutely quick, and as painless as possible. Like I said, I'm a coward.

Anyways, having difficulties travelling too far without freaking out, and not being able to do anything except smoke and drink without having an attack (Even drinking took some getting used to afterwards, but an alcoholic will make do) my drug running days are over.

I once fell in love with an emo girl. Online of all places, lol. Of course back then I didn't understand how relationships worked. I mean, I could barely understand how to socialize. Let alone have a healthy relationship. The maturity thing I seem to emanate is really just a sham. I don't really understand things all that well, I just have a knack for lying and putting on an air of authority. People believe me when I talk. Sometimes even I don't know if what I'm saying is bullshit. Sometimes I can't even tell if I'm speaking the truth or just trying to lead someone into an opinion. Am I actually expressing myself, or just trying to put the image of myself that I want this person to see me as in their head? Anyways, about the emo girl, I used to think I understood cutting. It's an attention grabber, right? Or a test to see what kind of pain you can tolerate? Well, whatever, I found it attractive at the time. I always seem to get attracted to the lost causes. But I thought cutting was stupid. Then I caught myself doing it when I was drunk. It just felt good to let the blood out. I wound up having to hide a few scars after that. Thankfully I heal really well. I can still pick out a few of them, but you wouldn't notice most of them if I didn't point them out or remove clothing.

I put an end to that, although it still seems appealing in some sick sort of way.

Now, one of the major problems that's tearing my mind apart, is the friend I said I'd mention later. The first time I saw her, I've wanted her something fierce. Of course at first it was just lust, but as I got to know her, I really started to like her. After awhile we wound up doing the flirting thing. The problem? For starters, she's three years younger than me. Not a big problem in Alberta, but it was definitely grating against my standards. Of course my brain couldn't help it. I liked this girl, and she's admitted a few times she's had a crush on me over the couple years I've known her. So, you ask, what's the problem? What's the matter? This is a good thing.

The problem, is that she's always been a bad seed. She's been into all the shit I've been into. And in a lot of cases, worse. Being a hot, young little thing, she of course gets suckered into all the ploys of all the scum bags and shit heads around (Basically everyone) and she likes it. And why shouldn't she? I know it gave me a sense of power to get into the dark side of things and start fucking around with society. The difference is that I never wound up a sexual obsession to carnivores. She's done all kinds of nasty things that I could never even stand to repeat, not even in this confession. This is the only girl that I ever felt compelled to kiss. The only one. I'm twenty-fucking one. And (aside from the emo girl, that ended badly) this was the only girl that I've actually fallen for. I can barely stand most of the people I meet, and hanging out with people other than my best friend or this girl I see as either an obligation to keep the 'friendship' or, with the hardcases I know, a show of power to whomever we come across that I do have some kind of status and it's best not to fuck with me sort of thing.

But I digress. This girl has been a major source of distress for me. When we're together the people around us can tell that there's a connection. I never noticed until recently some people have brought it up. More and more people have been asking what our history was like after they've seen us hanging around. The problem is that there is no history. Not really.

And it just burns me that there never can be. Unless...something. Some sort of change takes place. I couldn't even say what it would be, because I just don't see it happening. We still flirt from time to time, and she gets pretty suggestive from time to time. I know I could have her. But she's not the kind that can be kept. Before you start to think she's a master manipulator like so many other girls, believe me, that thought has crossed my mind dozens of times. I don't think that that's the case. I've seen that a lot. With a lot of other people. I may only have the one friend that I consider a friend, but there are a lot of people out there who would regard me as a friend, and that I would respond to in kind, although I can't bring myself to care about most people anymore.

Until recently I'd given up on that dream. I know it can't ever be. She's just to evil for me. My angel that came from hell. But she came back into my life recently. She moved to the same town as I live in with her boyfriend. Who happens to be four years older than me. We all get along, but of course, even though I act like he's the best friend I ever had (I've had so much practice with deception) and he thinks I'm a great friend of his, one of the only ones in town, and the only person alive that he trusts to escort his girlfriend around or be with her alone, I harbour some very deep seated thoughts about killing him. He hits her on occasion, is a drunk of my calibre, and punched me for selling them bad coke when in fact there was nothing wrong with it.

One of these days I might just do something terrible to him. Of course it's jealousy. It wouldn't do me any good, but there's nothing I can do to stop me from hating him.

Anyways, she drives me nuts, and rips my soul apart, but it just can never be.

With all that out of the way, I think I can finally get my real problem. I needed to express all of that other stuff before I got down to brass tacks and came out with my actual failure that I need to tell someone, and no one would ever let me get that far without either having me arrested, committed, or tell everyone in my world all about me, which would be just too much for me to take.

Anyways, I could deal with all of the above. All of it. Arrests, being a labourer, being a failure and disgrace to my family, shitty growing up in a shitty good for nothing town, if I had but one thing. Someone to love. A companion. But judging from the people I've encountered in life so far, I just can't see that happening, and in recent months, I've been seriously considering suicide. Just this week I asked one of my old contacts to pick me up a gun. Bare minimum 9mm, along with some pictures of the style I'd like, because if I'm going out, I'm going out in style.

There are reasons that under normal circumstances I would NEVER kill myself, but sometimes this all encompassing, horrific feeling that I can't even describe just grabs me, and I can't even cope with reality... and I think the gun would be more so peace of mind that if I needed to, I could get out. But I never seem to get the thought out of my head, despite the meds. Is it too late? Was I a total failure? Can I recover? I see the ugliest people alive married and happy. The worst losers of yesterday are well adjusted happy individuals today. Whereas I'm stuck in this terrible dark fucking hole of despair.

I actually feel a little better now. I know that this post was all over the place and probably not grammatically correct in a lot of places, but I've been waiting to let that spill out for a very long time now.


OH GOD PLEASE HELP! JFAK IS THE ONLY REASON I LIVE ANYMORE~!!!!!!!!!!

i do believe that is the longest comment I have ever seen

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interesting conversation...I like it

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I love everything i kill
I kill everything I love

lol cute! but i hate it when people dont respond when i talk

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BE DIFFERENT!!!!!!!!!!!!


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copy paste much?