White sight

It’s so hard to breathe.

I wonder if people know how deathly afraid I am of each and every single one of them… of the influence they have on my psyche. It is this haunting whisper that surfaces every time I hear someone’s voice, or notice someone laugh.

I hate them. And I think it’s because I’m scared of them.

One thing I find so awful to the point of hatred, is if anyone say they have ‘special feelings’ for me. I hate that. Don’t disturb me. You’re troubling me. Go away.

Because people screw up the precious morals I want to live happily by, and I would have if it were not for the nagging concern of god knows what origins, that tell me to do certain things.

It’s not… I mean….

Don’t come close… If you do, you’ll get hurt and if you didnt get hurt, that’s because I’d gotten more of it this time instead. Just stay away… and if you are moving off, don’t come close in the first place.

It’s not like I’m that cowardly… and I would hate to be self-absorbed… It’s when people come too close that I become concerned with how I’m coping, and then shit happens. But I am fine if you leave me be…

Leave me be to deal with the disgust that surges when strangers pass by with their laughing chatter. Leave me to handle and reason things properly and calm myself down.

Don’t say that you’ll feel sad because that just annoys me. I have failed so often with so many social relationships that I simply cannot cater to anything past securing my own calm.

I hate you. And I wish the very very very few I care even a little for, won’t get to know all this. Because then they’ll treat things differently and I won’t be able to salvage the change.

I don’t have a big enough heart to care for much besides family and pleasure. So back off… back off until I call you out and then you’ll see how I’m just using you and then you’ll leave and I’ll understand.

Don’t send me pathetic smses or emails asking how I am (like if you even bothered to). There’s something called a god damn phone but even then, it’s not like I will want to talk about anything.

It’s… difficult. Trying to ignore the negativity from the generic.. and fearing the loss of ignorance for some. But then again, maybe it’ll just be one less thing to worry about and more relief.

.. Struggling every weekday to function properly in school… and looking forward to the point of physical ache to run back home. How could any of you understand? It’s a horrible fight to contain memories and emotions every single damn (week)day, and my weekends are for prolonging what small peace there is and still fearing for its end .. always.

I’m just really scared and tired and pissed and I can’t wait for you to say that it’s immature self-pity because that’s the final push I need to safely detach myself from you.

…

Sometimes I think the counselor I last saw half a year ago got it right. The last session ended with him saying that he isn’t quite sure but there still seems to be a lot of anger in me. And well, he got it alright. I thought the negativity is more melancholic instead but clearly, the root is anger. And directed at so… so many things. The sorrow for which I create some small world for different simulations and roles to experience in safe doses by.

Oh it’s times like these that I am almost thrilled for the chance someone would oppose.. saying that I should or shouldn’t do whatever.

Bring it. I relish some disposable (yeah don’t think so much bout yourself) outlet.

Just stay clear then. Messing others up even a little seems to trouble me, and I hate that there may still be people who think that my saying that is a revelation of some non-existent redeeming quality.

Haven’t you learnt by now that words are so very pointless? You know nothing of how I’m manipulating your train of thoughts. So once again…

Get out. All of you.