Viet:
Odd, shows signs of manic depressive disorder. Prone to substance abuse. Currently addicted to videogames. Funny. Pessimistic. Oft obsessive.
Diagnosis: crazy, but functional.
Monday, December 1, 2008
A need to explain myself: I am not crazy
Well this is an explanation for exactly how it is that I am operating my life at the moment broken english horrible sentence omg what the fuck. The basics is this, and pay attention now because this is the first post in a while not facilitated by inebriation by anger.
I feel a need to fight every battle.
Every day is my last, every moment a passing breath, every second ostensibly the last second I will spend. But this is what motivates me. It's sad, but I move for conflict, I move for destruction, and it's possibly the hardest thing for me in the world to take a chance on doing something that might make me happy. I'm not going to reflect too much on my childhood, that's another post for another day, but for some reason when it comes down to the brass tacks of things I don't feel like I have a reason to live. Rather, I feel like I've been searching for an opportunity to die, or cause death.
Pessimism runs hard, you convince yourself early enough - to stave off the pain of disappointment - that the world is cruel and broken and it becomes a hard thing to shake off. I think I don't want to confront exactly how much that time period sucked, and for how long it sucked. But every fight I find, every battle I fight, I don't have an off switch. The only way I end fights is by walking away because there is no measure of escalation that I will not do, and I think... it's overcompensation for a childhood of trying to "not care" and "be yourself" when all yourself wanted to do was to hit back.
Also the news doesn't help because my pessimism is all too often reinforced. More often than not.
And Irvine.
I've spent a life I think in an area that's culled a sense of pessimism or maybe it's just me but... I don't know people, it's hard to see the light outside and it's hard to take a chance.
I feel a need to fight every battle.
Every day is my last, every moment a passing breath, every second ostensibly the last second I will spend. But this is what motivates me. It's sad, but I move for conflict, I move for destruction, and it's possibly the hardest thing for me in the world to take a chance on doing something that might make me happy. I'm not going to reflect too much on my childhood, that's another post for another day, but for some reason when it comes down to the brass tacks of things I don't feel like I have a reason to live. Rather, I feel like I've been searching for an opportunity to die, or cause death.
Pessimism runs hard, you convince yourself early enough - to stave off the pain of disappointment - that the world is cruel and broken and it becomes a hard thing to shake off. I think I don't want to confront exactly how much that time period sucked, and for how long it sucked. But every fight I find, every battle I fight, I don't have an off switch. The only way I end fights is by walking away because there is no measure of escalation that I will not do, and I think... it's overcompensation for a childhood of trying to "not care" and "be yourself" when all yourself wanted to do was to hit back.
Also the news doesn't help because my pessimism is all too often reinforced. More often than not.
And Irvine.
I've spent a life I think in an area that's culled a sense of pessimism or maybe it's just me but... I don't know people, it's hard to see the light outside and it's hard to take a chance.
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