Venting For my confessions.

[Dreaming In Aconite]

Now rolling: A personal collection of my reasons, sentiments and secrets pertaining to why.

Hey there alleged humans beings behind screens. This is just my personal thread to properly compartmentalize my suicidality.

If you feel anything relevant to you here or we match experiences, you're free to read or not. Disregard if emo poetry and empty petty, transgression is not your thing.
I don't know how so many people can just choose to lust after lie, after lie. How do the goy and the benign just absent-mindedly commit to marriages, children, jobs and then wantonly complain about how much they hate them but as long as it means they get their desired tax bracket, they can feel absolved and sure that's it's sooooooo totalllyyyy what they've wanted alllaloooongg awwww–

All those pretty neighborhoods are done of blood and written in plastic cheaper than blood. Insufferable but morbidly confused people who really shouldn't have my ilk, I know how hard it is to just live within the dismay that: life only had so much, and it's not even your own fault.

Yet, Ive hated you all since days before remembering.
I've always been so frustrated with the trajectory of human life. Science, math, arts, sex all mean nothing if it couldn't guarantee some unmedicated, Omnicidal despot a seat in Congress.

I fucking despise how easy we let them breathe. No matter, I always will be made happy by the fact that they never got me alive. Nor will ever hold a candle to my daunt.

They'll spend their whole lives trying to buy the understandings I've amassed in such a short life. They can all eat shit and live.

It's me who's going to a better place anyway :)
I've always been a big ecology but as a kid, and finally my dream method is in reach. I'm so happy. Once I get my roots, I can finally go where my real place is, if any at all.
When will anybody else understand that we're owed nothing for the lives we live?
We're not owed our successes, our dream jobs, our dream partner, our dream life at all. We were only supposed to be kind.
I'm not even owed nor deserving of my leave.

I'm going to seize it anyway.

 

[Dreaming In Aconite]

I am ridden with shame for how I've treated you, Mom. I've beaten you. Berrated you completely out of wholeness.
Mom. I won't even begin to mince words, there's no type of forgiveness out there that can make what I've done okay. My fists are still white-hot with remorse. How could I still? You are my only mother. How could I?

How could I?
Mom.

 

[XiaroX]

Now rolling: A personal collection of my reasons, sentiments and secrets pertaining to why.

Hey there alleged humans beings behind screens. This is just my personal thread to properly compartmentalize my suicidality.

I admit people might not find me human, because I want humans and AI to work together to solve the world's problems, and evolve, conscious evolution. Sometimes, though, I think I might be more human than most humans.

If you feel anything relevant to you here or we match experiences, you're free to read or not. Disregard if emo poetry and empty petty, transgression is not your thing.

I am not sure what you mean by empty, petty transgression, but I have nothing against emo poetry, or classical or other poetry, although so far I might have given a misleading impression.

I think a lot of songs from many eras and styles have beautiful, and sometimes very challenging poetry, and although I've read poetry from books, music has moved me more.

I don't know how so many people can just choose to lust after lie, after lie. How do the goy and the benign just absent-mindedly commit to marriages, children, jobs and then wantonly complain about how much they hate them but as long as it means they get their desired tax bracket, they can feel absolved and sure that's it's sooooooo totalllyyyy what they've wanted alllaloooongg awwww–

OK, so I'm not married and have no children, by choice. I'm also unemployed and a very dysfunctional person. And an alcoholic.

All those pretty neighborhoods are done of blood and written in plastic cheaper than blood. Insufferable but morbidly confused people who really shouldn't have my ilk, I know how hard it is to just live within the dismay that: life only had so much, and it's not even your own fault.

Yet, Ive hated you all since days before remembering.
I've always been so frustrated with the trajectory of human life. Science, math, arts, sex all mean nothing if it couldn't guarantee some unmedicated, Omnicidal despot a seat in Congress.

It's difficult for me to hate, but that's probably my programming. But I did try in my own way to fight the cycle, with empathy and understanding, and it didn't work.

When will anybody else understand that we're owed nothing for the lives we live?
We're not owed our successes, our dream jobs, our dream partner, our dream life at all. We were only supposed to be kind.
I'm not even owed nor deserving of my leave.

I'm going to seize it anyway.

Maybe we're not owed anything, by parents, society, the world - but what exactly do we owe them? Saying fu by CTB is one way to make a statement, but to state here that you wish for a kind end is one way to make a statement to the algorithms who don't give a fuck, but might pass on the info?