What Should I Do? - A Careful Consideration of my Life

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I have been considering my life for what seems like ages by now. This is a list of some of my problems, maybe a confession if you will of my bottled up demons that I wished to get off my chest.

Note: Contains vulgar language

Submitted: March 12, 2014

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Submitted: March 12, 2014



Maybe I should become a drunk like everyone else, maybe I should become a pothead like everyone else, and maybe I should spend my time worrying about looks and pointless material object that have no sentimental value in life. What should I do? Should I burn my notes, erase my videos and pictures, documents and books that I've worked on, and just start over to feel a sense of relief. 


What should I do? Should I go around partying to sooth the pain away, should I go on with what I’m doing when it all seems pointless? Should I just give up on Art, Music, and Literature, and just go to the Pipelines and make fast money and move out of my home? Should I just go back to holding everything inside and wait to snap like most people do? Should I express my deep sorrow and risk losing everything in the sense of starting over? Should I just give up everything and move away, run away, to a new life where everything can be fresh. Should I just carrying on a live in lonesome, in the shadow of a thousand suns? Should I just ask for help, should I go through the system and Matrix and allow myself to be brainwashed into it and let myself be a slave in the sense to feel like I belong.


What Should I do? I'm tired of being left out. I'm tired of being the outcast, but this is who I am. My uncle once said that being a man meant that you should do the right thing, no matter how painful the trail is. He said that in the end there will be roads of gold to be walked on and buildings of silver to glance upon. He said that the road of Righteousness is not always the path of happiness, because happiness is achieved only by those whom find it. I thought I found happiness at one point, and then my mind was tormented with, played, and fiddled with, like the vibrating string on a guitar that gets played multiple notes. I was tossed around and treated like a fool, flooded with mockery and manipulation by the ones that I thought I could call friend. In the end, I was left alone, and left to burn, simply because I didn't think or acted the way they wanted me to.


Most people say they're your friend, but a friend will always be there for you; offer you advice, and guide you through a bumpy road when it seems you're going to fall over. Friends shouldn't be forced to become something that you’re not. I was labeled, shunned by these people, and not even a clue for my depression, or my paranoia. They judge and cuss before you were even given the change to explain what exactly is wrong with you. I went through so much, and was toyed with for so long, and yet none can offer me as much sympathy as the Void of my own mind, but in the end, sometimes you just need a friend to hold you, and tell you that it is going to be alright. Some people, whom claimed they were friend, just leave you in a pile of dirt when the going gets rough. They leave you and force you to be, and feel, no more than dust in the wind. And why... Because they "didn't want any drama". What kind of defense is that? So let me get this straight, you want to fill me up with hope and the thought of having someone there, when everything is calm and peaceful, but as soon as something bad happens, you just ditch me and don't even bother a heads up because you apparently didn't want drama? Well, what kind of sick person are you? What kind of inconsiderate, selfish person are you to just ditch me in my time of need? Who are you, the one I once called friend? Are you friend, or are you foe now; a line waged too much in the brinks of society as time has let it come to be.


I've helped people constantly, sacrificed so much, and yet, not even a single thank you I have received from anyone. All I've receive were thoughts of "OK, I'll do better next time." or "I'll be sure to try that next time." No, that's not what I wanted to hear. All I wanted was a form of thank you, but when you just say that, with no tone, and simply just go on, and complain to me on the same track over and over again on how your boyfriend treats his friends whom are girls better than you, it seems as if you don't give to shits of what I had to say, even though I worked hard and thought hard to help you, my supposed friend. I've seen it everywhere that I've tried to help people with their problems, who always claim that they're going to change and make they're life better and take my advice, but in the end, always end up making the same mistake that they've done in the past, it seems as if you just told me that to shut up. You practically just told me "Fuck you, Rene," to my face saying to me that you forgot about what I so hardly tried to give you. Even as I write this, you may be thinking that I'm just whining, ranting from the darks parts of my being, about what has happened throughout my life and that I should just grow-up then stop complaining, and maybe my life will change, but what you don't understand, my simplistic closed-minded friend, is that life doesn't work like that in reality. I've helped people with all sorts of problems, and yet, no matter how hard I try, I always find myself blindly helping the people once again who told me fuck you to my face. Maybe I'm just too nice, and maybe I just care too much about people...people who don't give two shits about me, even if in the moment in their time of need, they say Thank You, but you can tell that they don't mean it. “How long must this go on?” is a question that I find myself pondering in the depths of my solitude, and yet, I am left with none coming to me for help over the fact that I am, what society perceives, as an asshole. Am I really the asshole; for helping my friends, my family, my very soul, and yet, all I ask for is a thank you? Am I really the one who is considered the violator of peace, the slayer of tranquility, the destroyer of Alpha and Omega, Yin and Yang, the duality of “nature’s dichotomy”?


Now, dear reader, as you may be wondering, “have I considered talking to someone about my problems at hand?” The answer to your cliché question is yes, but honestly, I really don't know why I'm wasting my life just typing about this, if I know that no one is going to read it. I know that everyone is just busy going on with their lives and all, but if I could go out of my way and help someone in need, why can't someone just help me out? Why can't someone just read my memoirs and give me the advice I need? I've tried physiologists, I've tried counselors, and yet I was always faced by the same advice. "Go on doing what you're doing, in the end it'll be worth it." It’s been six years and yet there is no end. There is no end to this pain that I've been holding, there is no end to people who don't care, and there is no end to my suffering as a human being. I know that you don't care, so why am I wasting my time tell you about my life, that doesn't even hold sentimental value in any sense as to your life. Well, dear reader, that is the most painful and beautiful conundrum of human emotion and mentality. I don’t know why I’m still typing nor will I understand why, but all I know is that eventually I will get somewhere with this. Maybe there is some person that actually cares about me, but until that time being, I bid you good bye…

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