"Hate is a strong word. Rage is powerful."
I hate everything now.
I feel like the more I try to resist facing all these hidden emotions, it feels as if I'm prolonging my suffering which eats me up the more I carry that weight with me.
I feel furious, so mad, so enraged.
It wasn't new to me to look so...dead. My eyebrows were furrowed as I continued to walk my way around the city where no one knew me. I dragged my feet around as I felt the physical discomfort brought on by some activities in school. I knew I was supposed to be happy, but I couldn't understand why I had to be in this state of mind.
To be this enraged–perhaps something is triggering me.
Over the past few days, I've had thoughts that I want to be 'someone' in this lifetime. I knew that I had no idea what I wanted to do in this life, yet I felt such a deep desire to acquire power–and see myself as successful. There's just something enticing about being covered in glamour and luxury, living life to the fullest while being showered with money and admiration just by existing.
I've thought of this for the past few days–that I despised giving up my control just for someone else. I've thought about romance, and how nice would it be to be experienced. To be loved, to be taken care of, to feel like I belong to someone. But ever since yesterday, I couldn't help but think that I was never really made to see the world in rose-colored glasses.
Romance made me uncomfortable every time I realized I daydreamed about someone. It felt farfetched, so exhausting, and cringe. I knew I probably just wanted or needed love, but I didn't think I could ever be someone who's ever deserving of it. To see the world in rose-colored glasses, I initially felt as if I was being distracted from achieving my potential and creating the life I deserve.
I can't see the world in such a way. I'm certain that I've been glued to my distorted perception of reality that made. me the person I am today. If it was contrasting, I'd be more naive than I was. It would be easier to hope forgive, and understand. I knew it was needed, but I don't think that's a drive for my soul. My soul craves solitude in any way possible. And to be honest, seeing that person I like infuriated me in a way I didn't know could exist.
My initial thought was: "Why? Did he do anything? Or is it just that I have no chance?" Yet the more I dug deeper to get my answers, I figured that it was because I was so deeply reminded of the person whom I could be if I ever got lost in the sensation of love. And love being as genuine and sincere, it's easier to manipulate another person either way.
The second was other people, even the closest ones. They pissed me off so much that even looking at them infuriates me. I couldn't understand why at first. I listened to them talk about their interests and their goals, and seeing them achieve them one by one just made me so small. I know it's not tolerable, but I feel like I'm not capable of doing anything. I feel like someday, I'll just end up like the loved ones I have learned to hate the most.
I couldn't understand either why I wasn't ever achieving anything, yet others could be so hopeful of me. Can't they see the deformity created in me brought by trauma? I don't ever believe if someone tells me that I'm hardworking or intelligent. I have so many flaws myself, and it's not that I hate myself. I've just been taught to be so humble I can't even give myself the credit I deserve to have.
YOU ARE READING
all those rage, and i'm still here?
Random𝓘 𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼. 🩸🖋️✍️ Collection of personal essays and poems. Disclaimer: Heavy themes (mostly existential and psychological). Read at your own risk.