Fuck everyone
The story
I went to my school carnival, it was fine, I guess. There were many people, and I only went there to buy some merch and stuff. I saw my classmates, said hi to a few of them, but otherwise I didn't do anything with them because they had their own groups doing their things, but I think I dressed well and I got a strawberry keychain, a small Amazonite tumble, and some stickers of K-Pop Demon Hunters and a chemistry version of "Iconic" with moments captured, to say, "Iconic moments captured". But yeah, it was fine, mom got some magnets, my brother hung out with his friends. Honestly, my loneliness now felt more hollow than sad. I told my mom maybe I was destined to be a hermit, and she said, "Even they live, and stop whining. We need to get something." And when I told her no one really greeted me, not that I expected them anyways since I belong in the garbage, she said, "It'll take time, please." Take time, it took 7 years. When we came home after a nice Oriental meal, it was really filling, mom noticed I end up scratching myself way more due to my eczema, and mom admitted she knew why because it gives relief, but when I told her I also do this because when everything goes to hell, I don't have friends, I score low in exams, I stop drawing, scratching is the only thing I'm good at. Mom looked at me weird, told me I live a privileged life, and that when her parents split she was worse off for a while, but weirdly, after I told her "Maybe my problems aren't real." And she said, "You think I said that? Try to think positively for once. It's a slow process." It has been 7 years already, I've given up the search for friendship and love, because to me, it's now a sin my body still wants. In fact, why bother with people? Love and friends are a risk, a liability, and scratching and thinking of doomsday is the only reason I'm alive. It's the only way I'm not getting into bad situations, because I don't trust people. I have eczema, I do get a relief, mom knows. You may say, "Oh stop this self-harm!" But this is from eczema, I've always had this. I have! It's just gotten slightly worse over the years in terms of skin. But it doesn't matter, because as long as I'm not getting an infection or at risk of dying, I'm just suffering a skin disorder. Even mom doesn't get it, because she's an idiot! Why do I even trust her!? She deserves to leave, and so does dad, and my brother who rubs salt in my wound by calling me "friendless", "ugly", "short", "stupid because you scored low marks" on a daily basis thinking it's a joke. I get it, you have more success than me! I'm a flopped movie! But one man who I forgot the name of was right, "People is hell". Hell is other people. That one author of "No Exit" was right. People are disgusting creatures. I may have yelled at mom today, but that's the freest I've felt. Hurting disgusting creatures is easier than living with them, considering I'm a warrior in a world of Hell. Making them feel bad with my harsh words. Hell is other people. Mom is delusional for wanting hope. I've hoped long enough, and it's a mere childish thing. We humans perceive things in our own ways, we may not share the same sights at all, and maybe the real world is just nothing, and we projected ourselves onto it like beings orbiting a mass in nothingness. It's some physics theory I heard somewhere. Her perception that it'll get somewhere is her being a human. My mom is forcing it down my throat because she's another mass of life my poor brain created wanting me to suffer. I'm right, aren't I? Isn't the theory correct? Isn't Sartre correct? Aren't I intelligent? Isn't my perception theory correctly recollected? Me being smarter than my peers, even the guy who told me the perception theory as a joke, I reflected and made it make sense. Guts thrived in being alone, he left Casca for 2 years to help himself after she got trauma, and he lived. He reflected so much, all when being isolated. From his team, his girlfriend, to beat Griffith! At least he had a reason to fight, what am I doing? People are anyways uncultured, stupid, mean, ugly pigs who deserve nothing, anyways. I'm really starting to get Dio and Kat from Euphoria more, people are trash! No wonder Dio became a vampire and Kat became who she is, people are trash and he's rightfully ashamed to be human. People are pigs because I'm better than them. Even my classmates are pigs. And you may also say again, "Oh but try therapy!" Enough with the therapist talk! My dad will never let me go to one ever again! I can never ever go to one because it's a fantasy dream! It's just a life I can never have, so the best I can do is just move on or trust mom, which she's already labelled "pig" in my head because parents slow down their children. I'm no longer hating myself, I hate everyone else for thinking I'm a freak for seeing the truth. Nothing matters because nothing exists. I'm a god in a world of pigs. I was only born as a girl unfortunately. Not that I feel gender dysphoria whatsoever, but people are pigs.
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
PEOPLE ARE PIGS
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Points of view
dude, sounds like you're really going through it 😕 it's tough when everything feels pointless, but maybe there's something small you enjoy that could spark a bit of interest? distractions don't fix everything, but they might help even if just for a moment. also, i get your frustration with people (they're not perfect...) but sometimes there's some good ones out there. ✌️
- sounds like a heavy load you're carrying, and it feels like you've been dealing with this for too long... it's tough when people just don't get it. have you thought about channeling some of that energy into creative outlets? even if it’s just jotting down thoughts. sometimes, expressing how you feel through art or writing can be a relief! plus, who knows, maybe you'll create something that'll connect with others feeling the same way. humans are challenging for sure, but there is potential in what we create and share...