Don't you just hate wanting to belong? It sickens me to the point I never admit it anywhere. Well, except here. In a strange way, the fact that strangers will get here by mistake or intention gives me great joy. I am a stereotype. I am a loner, I feel as misunderstood as a teenager and I both hate and love myself, which sickens me even more than wanting to belong. How does one belong to a group of loners? Loners are alone, if they are not alone they are hypocrites.
I decided to write this here because this is the day I realized I had no best friends. What is the point of carrying on if there are no superlatives in your life, not even when it comes to friendship? What is my understanding of a best friend? Someone you can share your filthy obsessions with and they will find it endearing instead of creepy. As I reread this last phrase I realize how much I sound like a 15 year old, and not in the ageist kind of way, I was mocked enough for being too young when I was too young, but in the inexperienced way. I simply can't wrap my head around the fact that there are so many things missing and yet I carry on. I see it not as a proof of courage, but of cowardice. How many times have you pictured yourself dead? I stare and I stare in the mirror and see pores and hairs and white and pink and hazel and I wonder once more who do I want to impress by living? Is there really a point to being ordinary and never extraordinary? Surely everyone wants to be remembered, but that is selfish and it brings me even more guilt. My depression brings me guilt, my happy moments bring me guilt because I don't feel like myself, they feel like betrayal. Last night I dreamed I was driving a car and I ran myself over and I woke up with a big smile on my face.
See even this post is ordinary. How do I live with this banality? How do I live if belonging brings comfort, but also la nausée?
"At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire." Why bother saying something if Sartre said it before? The insignificance of 1 compared to 7 billion is standing on my shoulders and resting just like the celestial sphere on Atlas.
I came here to tell the deaf and blind world about a dream I had and now I am here to tell it about the nightmare I am living. And I am so afraid of Post Now, but I am also afraid of all the days that went by without connecting with another human soul. Post Now.