letter to someone

Reads: 42  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic


Yeh same. Most of the shit I talk about with friends is bullshit. Most of the shit people in general talk about is bullshit. There's no room in the bureaucrat's vocabulary for real talk. We're conditioned to be obedient, unquestioning workers. It's as if we're completely insignificant compared to the trained businessman, whose soul has been poisoned by greed, whom pointlessly accumulates wealth. They don't give a fuck about us. We're just assets. Our emotions are nothing but potential liabilities.

I frequently feel the same way. That I could easily just disappear. But I give myself reasons not to. No matter how much I want to escape my agoraphobia of life, I fear I'll be here until it's unwittingly taken from me. I love my brother. And my good friends. And for them, especially him, I won't plot my death. But maybe that's the excuse I give myself and I'm really just a coward. Even if it's just cognitive dissonance to justify my cowardice, my philosophy is that life is an insignificant blimp of time on the cosmic calender, as Carl Sagan said, and so what's some mammalian suffering in the scheme of things? No matter how difficult, one must learn to be grateful for the gift of life, I suppose.

My family is fucked up beyond repair too. I feel you there. I was beaten too. But I feel it was more my childhood of emotional neglect and punitive torments which really fucked me. They, especially my dad, but also my mum, and of course their families too, took my sensitivities and turned me into a neurotic mess. For that, and also other reasons that couldn't be helped like my hearing loss and genetics, I'll suffer a lifetime of social anxiety and endogenous depression, self-image issues and so on. But I try not to blame any of them, despite how hard it is. And I try not to blame myself. That only breeds resentment. And what good comes of anger? I've been attempting to practise absolute acceptance. Forgiveness or whatever. It wasn't their fault. Nor was it mine. It's just the way things are. From this can come only good. 

I can't do this on my own. I feel so alone. I miss my dog too. It's all just a muddle. I frequently indulge in dacadence for that temporary elation.  But in the end it only brings hurt to look for happiness. I want to be content, sometimes at best. Not happy. Because I'll never be happy. It's not that simple. It's inevitable that shit happens. 'nothing is good or bad, but thinking makes it so'. 

I'm glad you wrote me. Because I'm feeling a lot better now. I hope you feel at least a little bit better. 


Submitted: March 08, 2021

© Copyright 2021 olive tree. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments