It has been quite a while since my last foray into the Writing section, but I have returned with another piece pulled from my psyche. I'm not even quite sure what to call this. I suppose you could call it a story, though honestly it has a lot of personal venting in it. So if you like it, empathize with it, or just think it was engaging, please tell me so. If you hate it and think I should leave my personal "ranting" to myself, then please tell me so (in a nice way, please). Well, I've probably already scared most people away, but here it is:
I hate you, so much. Your very existence shakes me to the core. No matter how hard I try, you will just not get out of my mind. Nothing I do, nothing I say, absolutely nothing will give me peace from you. Every moment of my life you are there, lurking in the shadows. Anytime I feel accomplished, I think of you. Anytime I feel defeated, there you are in my mind. Why is my envy never quelled? Why can I never stop comparing myself to you? You are everything that I ever wanted from myself. My wildest dreams are manifest in you. The ideal me, is you. To reach the heights to which you have soared would take me years, and by then you will only have flown higher.
You say you are not perfect, and I agree. But that only serves to intensify my anger. Perfection is boring, and you are anything but. The good in you far outshines the bad. But me? No, the good is forced to co-exist with my bad. Both are equally apparent, and both are there for the world to see. You're lucky, the bad is able to hide inside you, only visible when you allow it to be so. Indeed, outside you are pure.
Why do you torment me so? Why do you haunt me through every waking hour. We talk, we smile, yet inside I feel empty. How could I ever live up to you? How can anyone compare me to you, or you to me? We are so fundamentally different, and yet at times we are treated as the same creature. No, you certainly deserve better than to be treated like me. For you see, you are me, but better in every feasible way. You are stronger in mind and body, happier in heart and soul, freer in life and spirit, and more attractive in every sense of the word. Who would want me around, when they could have you instead? I certainly would take you over me and day of the year. What would I give to trade places with you? The world, I'd imagine. And yet I could never really bring myself to do that, to condemn you to being me. That would be far too cruel, you've never done anything to deserve such a thing.
You see a part of me, I see a part of you. To judge a person in total by only a single part is foolish. And yet the part you show to me and the world, is so much greater than mine. You show happiness, intellect, and strength. I show intelligence, solitude, and silence. You are beautiful, I am not. I want so much to have what you do; friends, strength, resolve, happiness. I know your life is not easy either, I have seen the results of the stress in you. Yet you handle it with such grace, grace that I lack.
When I am with you, an hour is a minute. When I am not, I can only wish that I were. In you I see all the good in me, and all the good I wish I had. Time melts around you. However, I never feel like I truly belong in your presence. You are so much better than me, your time would be spent better with someone else. But all the same, I treasure the moments I spend with you. I consider you my friend, in truth the best of my very few. That you would willingly spend time with me make my heart flutter in happiness. Afterwards, I feel as though I could cry. I know that our time is limited, that eventually there will be a last word spoken between us, a last time I see your face. The thought drives me insane. What I would give to spend an eternity basking in your radiance.
I say I hate you, but do I really? I envy you with all my might, I wish that I could hate you. But I can't bring myself to do it. What do I feel? Love? I scoff at the notion. I am too young, too ignorant to be able to fall in love. All the same, perhaps that is how I feel. The more I try to rationalize that it is not so, the more I hope it is. All the time and thoughts on you, wasted if it isn't so. We come from completely different walks of life, I know that. But I still want more than anything to be with you right now, at this moment. Why? Why do I have to feel like this. Why can't I force myself to see you as merely another person, a friend, like I do for the others? Why are you so special? Why do I see so much of myself in your, or at least my ideal self? Why, why, why, I keep asking myself this question. Over and over and over I torment myself with thoughts of you. Despite this, I never get any closer to an answer.
You are my friend, you are my enemy. You are better than me, you are the same. I love you, I hate you. I would do anything for you, and yet I would do very little for you. Nothing would make me happier than to make you happy, but at the same time I wish I could see you suffer a little. Suffer like I have to everyday. Every day I see you, I ache inside. Every day I don't, I ache even more. I am so broken inside, yet you are oblivious. I wonder, do you perhaps suffer too? For what reasons, I ponder? Do I put you on too much of a pedestal? Are you, perhaps, just like me inside? Such comfort I would feel in knowing that. There is so much I would give to just see the human side of you, the corrupt and painful side, the part of you that you want no one to see. I would feel so much better about myself if I could just see that even you hurt inside.
I am so very, very lonely. At times it seems as though the loneliness is threatening to crush the very air from my lungs. You give me reprieve. For the first time in more than half a decade, you gave me the comfort of friendship. You were not alone of course, but for some reason you stick out much more in my mind. I speculate often why that is so. I haven't come up with an answer yet. The time you, the others, and I have spent together is among the best I've had. No, it is the best I've had. I just wish I could tell you all this, and yet my embarrassment is too great. Doing so may push you away, shatter the bond we share. That would surely destroy me.
So I'll keep it this way, all bottled up inside, threatening to burst. Better to feel anguish as well as happiness than only anguish. You will continue on with your life, par for course, as I watch on. I am sure I will regret this decision later, there will always be a what if. I do not have the courage. So great is my cowardice that I make up excuse after excuse to convince myself of my decision. But no, my body, my hobbies, my personality, my actions, none of them are what keep me from doing it. I am scared, I am weak, I am far too nervous, I am so very alone, that I would not, will not, cannot risk it. So here I am, stuck this way, left with only the ability to lament at my situation. That's what all this is, right? My suppressed feelings coming out, a rant to serve as lamentation. Pathetic. How utterly pathetic. I must end it here, to continue would only bring me to tears and an all new state of self loathing. A fitting end, deserved by my weakness.
It has been quite a while since my last foray into the Writing section, but I have returned with another piece pulled from my psyche. I'm not even quite sure what to call this. I suppose you could call it a story, though honestly it has a lot of personal venting in it. So if you like it, empathize with it, or just think it was engaging, please tell me so. If you hate it and think I should leave my personal "ranting" to myself, then please tell me so (in a nice way, please). Well, I've probably already scared most people away, but here it is:
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
My Insanity
I hate you, so much. Your very existence shakes me to the core. No matter how hard I try, you will just not get out of my mind. Nothing I do, nothing I say, absolutely nothing will give me peace from you. Every moment of my life you are there, lurking in the shadows. Anytime I feel accomplished, I think of you. Anytime I feel defeated, there you are in my mind. Why is my envy never quelled? Why can I never stop comparing myself to you? You are everything that I ever wanted from myself. My wildest dreams are manifest in you. The ideal me, is you. To reach the heights to which you have soared would take me years, and by then you will only have flown higher.
You say you are not perfect, and I agree. But that only serves to intensify my anger. Perfection is boring, and you are anything but. The good in you far outshines the bad. But me? No, the good is forced to co-exist with my bad. Both are equally apparent, and both are there for the world to see. You're lucky, the bad is able to hide inside you, only visible when you allow it to be so. Indeed, outside you are pure.
Why do you torment me so? Why do you haunt me through every waking hour. We talk, we smile, yet inside I feel empty. How could I ever live up to you? How can anyone compare me to you, or you to me? We are so fundamentally different, and yet at times we are treated as the same creature. No, you certainly deserve better than to be treated like me. For you see, you are me, but better in every feasible way. You are stronger in mind and body, happier in heart and soul, freer in life and spirit, and more attractive in every sense of the word. Who would want me around, when they could have you instead? I certainly would take you over me and day of the year. What would I give to trade places with you? The world, I'd imagine. And yet I could never really bring myself to do that, to condemn you to being me. That would be far too cruel, you've never done anything to deserve such a thing.
You see a part of me, I see a part of you. To judge a person in total by only a single part is foolish. And yet the part you show to me and the world, is so much greater than mine. You show happiness, intellect, and strength. I show intelligence, solitude, and silence. You are beautiful, I am not. I want so much to have what you do; friends, strength, resolve, happiness. I know your life is not easy either, I have seen the results of the stress in you. Yet you handle it with such grace, grace that I lack.
When I am with you, an hour is a minute. When I am not, I can only wish that I were. In you I see all the good in me, and all the good I wish I had. Time melts around you. However, I never feel like I truly belong in your presence. You are so much better than me, your time would be spent better with someone else. But all the same, I treasure the moments I spend with you. I consider you my friend, in truth the best of my very few. That you would willingly spend time with me make my heart flutter in happiness. Afterwards, I feel as though I could cry. I know that our time is limited, that eventually there will be a last word spoken between us, a last time I see your face. The thought drives me insane. What I would give to spend an eternity basking in your radiance.
I say I hate you, but do I really? I envy you with all my might, I wish that I could hate you. But I can't bring myself to do it. What do I feel? Love? I scoff at the notion. I am too young, too ignorant to be able to fall in love. All the same, perhaps that is how I feel. The more I try to rationalize that it is not so, the more I hope it is. All the time and thoughts on you, wasted if it isn't so. We come from completely different walks of life, I know that. But I still want more than anything to be with you right now, at this moment. Why? Why do I have to feel like this. Why can't I force myself to see you as merely another person, a friend, like I do for the others? Why are you so special? Why do I see so much of myself in your, or at least my ideal self? Why, why, why, I keep asking myself this question. Over and over and over I torment myself with thoughts of you. Despite this, I never get any closer to an answer.
You are my friend, you are my enemy. You are better than me, you are the same. I love you, I hate you. I would do anything for you, and yet I would do very little for you. Nothing would make me happier than to make you happy, but at the same time I wish I could see you suffer a little. Suffer like I have to everyday. Every day I see you, I ache inside. Every day I don't, I ache even more. I am so broken inside, yet you are oblivious. I wonder, do you perhaps suffer too? For what reasons, I ponder? Do I put you on too much of a pedestal? Are you, perhaps, just like me inside? Such comfort I would feel in knowing that. There is so much I would give to just see the human side of you, the corrupt and painful side, the part of you that you want no one to see. I would feel so much better about myself if I could just see that even you hurt inside.
I am so very, very lonely. At times it seems as though the loneliness is threatening to crush the very air from my lungs. You give me reprieve. For the first time in more than half a decade, you gave me the comfort of friendship. You were not alone of course, but for some reason you stick out much more in my mind. I speculate often why that is so. I haven't come up with an answer yet. The time you, the others, and I have spent together is among the best I've had. No, it is the best I've had. I just wish I could tell you all this, and yet my embarrassment is too great. Doing so may push you away, shatter the bond we share. That would surely destroy me.
So I'll keep it this way, all bottled up inside, threatening to burst. Better to feel anguish as well as happiness than only anguish. You will continue on with your life, par for course, as I watch on. I am sure I will regret this decision later, there will always be a what if. I do not have the courage. So great is my cowardice that I make up excuse after excuse to convince myself of my decision. But no, my body, my hobbies, my personality, my actions, none of them are what keep me from doing it. I am scared, I am weak, I am far too nervous, I am so very alone, that I would not, will not, cannot risk it. So here I am, stuck this way, left with only the ability to lament at my situation. That's what all this is, right? My suppressed feelings coming out, a rant to serve as lamentation. Pathetic. How utterly pathetic. I must end it here, to continue would only bring me to tears and an all new state of self loathing. A fitting end, deserved by my weakness.
Edited by DragonMaster