I’m sorry if you kind of expected me, or well….at least saw that I was or seemed to be – as some kind of rich entrepreneur with an organized office and bringing into fruition all sorts of ideas. I may seem to look that part, but I’m not. And sorry if I couldn’t correct that observation. No, I don’t know what’s it like to HAVE my own room, and stay in an uncrowded house. And I often wonder now how convenient and good for me that would be. I live in a small house with 3 people, and our house has objects everywhere and everyone has their own agendas to tend to, and so I find it hard to focus on mine. OH fuck. I’m supposed to be working on my projects right now, but why? Oh…just…fuck myself
Surprise! We’re the reapers of your sins, coming to get you and slash you into smithereens. The vegan police who’ll arrive knowing you violated the vegan code. Wait – what? I’m afraid. What if I’m not a good person. What if one day I get caught and thrown into jail for a wrong I committed that I’m not aware of. What if people hate me and see the wrong I’ve been doing and all along I was not aware. What if I’ll reap the consequences and there’s some kind of wrong-right scale that weighs all the bad things and it weighs heavier.
For a long time I’ve grown with this feeling that people will dislike me if I do something or say something
Will I be able to stand up without giving a care?
I’m sorry for being too sad and heavy to accomplish anything, even though the ability and time exists to bring something into fruition. I fight yet I still end up here, and it’s sad. Someone said that I have to love myself enough to spare myself the pain of loneliness. But how could I, at this state? But it’s the only way, and if I keep doing this, then it’s not going to be good. Am I sick and need medicine? I need to feel better, because time keeps moving and will eat me up if I don’t…