Tag Archives: humanity

Life as a really bad soap opera.

There’s no more surprises.  The conclusion is a little overdue.  Finding meaning is like grasping at straws.  Not even straws.  Those thin little brown, two-holed, stir-stick-straws that come with coffee and I’ve never really come to functionally understand.  Those straws are a parody on life in their own right.

I pushed my sister.

It was awful.  I thought it was almost funny, the way she wrapped around the arm of my couch before falling off the adjacent side of it.  It wasn’t funny.  It was pathetic.

It wasn’t even in slow motion.  It just happened as though it has happened a million times before….  Had it?  I don’t think so.

My conscience is foggy.  I pushed my sister and didn’t feel guilty, and I feel guilty about that.  Right?  Does that make me better?  It doesn’t feel like it does.

I mostly just feel empty.  But why should I feel anything?  Why do I care?  Obviously I felt angry, now what is she feeling?  Is she feeling like I failed as her brother as much as I feel I have been failing, failed, and will fail again at being…. a person?

What is a person?  Do people really make mistakes?  Is this forgivable?  Are they?

I feel very wronged.  I was hurt, so I lashed out.  I was let down.  I don’t want people in my life anymore.  People are bad company.  But I need people to live.  Money doesn’t grow on trees.  Experience doesn’t grow on trees.  It all grows on people.  Lets face it, I’m not sustaining myself.

I’m a user.  I’m addicted to people.  They are so bad for me but I need them.  But what am I even using people for?  What is it that I’m doing to make everything okay for me in the end?  Is that what life is supposed to look like?  You use my back, I’ll use yours?  Something like that.  That’s not living.  I should know, right?

I pushed my sister.  She cried and she left.  I wrote about it and am going to sleep on a bed of nails.


Vaguely, Humanity.

I think that I am going insane.

I no longer feel human.  I feel empty and jaded.  Sometimes when I forget about him, or about my life in general, and I find the peace within myself to do something I used to love, I am at ease.  But I am crazy.

Life has become so exhausting.  I fear any relationships I form with people at this point are a matter of convenience.  I fucking hate people.

Was I ever thoughtful and compassionate and trusting?  Was it all just a dream?  I feel like I am not even sentient anymore.  Like I am just a mental mishap drifting between death and dormancy.

Even at my worst, in my old life but a memory, I had pride in some things.  I am confident in my writing, my soul, my capacity to do good by other people; In my old life.

Why do I have a job where I spend all day being scrutinized and socialized and standardized by ass-hat socialites?  Why do I have friends who I in earnest have nothing in common with?  Why do I even have friends?  Why do I employ effort in humanity at all when I don’t consider myself to walk amongst it?

I no longer conform to life.  I am no longer breathing.  I am drifting, and agonizing, and dying.  One day I will be dead.  It will be enough.

Friday, September 14th


I don’t know how to deal with this word.  It’s truly not in my personal vocabulary.  I’ve never said goodbye to anyone.  Even people I know I’ll never see again.  I can’t face that reality–never ever seeing someone again.

The word is unfortunately all too real.  Goodbye can’t just be ignored.
It is erroneous; a misnomer–not good at all.  Today and forevermore I will say “sadbye”.  This is the word I know.  This is the word I stand by.

When I look at my life objectively, I see I’ve never really even been given the circumstance to which a sadbye is necessary.  Apart from the death of my grandfather, I suppose.  His was truly a sadbye, but I’m certain I never gave him one.  I cried, I mourned, I reflected and I ruminated, but I never said sadbye.  I guess it just never seemed necessary.  Somewhere down the line I just came to accept my loss and resigned to someday seeing his happy, scowling face again.

–On a delightful side note!  The other day I took a taxi to my place of work.  A warm, elderly, man drove me.  It was… comforting.  The smell of his cab.  It was of my grandfather.  A smell so distantly familiar I couldn’t help but crease a smile.–

Anyways, on the subject of sadbyes.
Recently my ex told me goodbye.  There’s that funny word again; goodbye.
I couldn’t help but really ponder his intent behind it.  A man who once told me he so passionately loved me and cared for me, and would never hurt me.  Why would he use this wanton word on me?

I started contemplating what it really meant.  This word I’ve never spoken before, in what context was it used?  In what sincerity was the word derived?  I felt helpless, and confused.  I still do.  I have for almost 3 months now.  None of this has made sense to me.  But the goodbye is the only clarity I’ve had in a long time.
What did this word mean?  It meant somebody no longer valued me.  It meant somebody looked at me and saw a person who could provide no more love, no more friendship, no more emotional and personal gratification.

I think that is what makes goodbye the saddest for me.  That is why I choose to call it a sadbye.  I didn’t simply pass on from this life.  I didn’t leave someone with no choice but to bring our emotional resonance to a close.  I was abandoned instead.  I have been abandoned by one of the so few people I embraced in my life and allowed myself to feel safe and comfortable around.

Is this what sadbyes are like for everyone?  When you say it to someone, do you realize the impact of your words?  Do you see the betrayal of your most intimate of promises as a human being?
I see it.  And I can’t say it.  I can’t hurt someone like that.  I will never say sadbye to him.  He will never know my affliction, because I can’t burden him in such a way.

Love is such a precious word.  It’s so incredibly intricate and boundless.  Please, if you find yourself reading this, please, please, please, never say goodbye to someone you love.