Twelve in Review

Writing

Within in the past twelve months, I went through my ascension. Not to become a god or a person for anyone to admire. I ascended the people around me and left them upon the simple-minded plane that they lie upon. What really happened to me? I grew tired of the complaints and the cries for sympathy for things that were so feeble and un-necessary. I lost friends that I chose to lose, I also lost friends who I had misjudged our friendships length and integrity of it all. False hopes given within sympathetic and illicit conversations that lasted the span of a few hours. The hundreds of friends I assumed I had, like a child, they all vanished and I was left as I always felt, alone. I’d think to shut my eyes and hope to find a phone filled with love enriched messages and voicemails of me being missed and people wanting to spend time with me, hoping I mattered.

I left grade school behind; I left behind no mark, or significant existence there. A few laughs and moments that I’ll remember every now and then when I think of the ones I spent time with.

I won’t lie; I felt abandoned and sort of thrown to the side, I shouldn’t have felt that way though. I was quite the acquaintance with this tossed away feeling, allowing myself to be used as an emotional sponge to sop up and relieve emotional stress from people whenever they needed it.

I asked the woman I cared about the most what she wanted from me, she only asked of me to love her and to be there for her. I asked myself what I wanted of myself all I could think of was that I simply wanted to find some type of common ground with myself hoping to find something within the strolls I took within the back my mind. All I saw was the pain I’ve hidden for so long in the depths of my subconscious

I’ve came this far and I can’t go back to the ways things used to be. The common rapport perceived in the conversations I have myself could be called skeptical. The way I distinguish myself from everyone else could be perceived as chauvinistic and cold-hearted.

I’ve taken strolls in the back of my mind and found the flaws of myself and of mankind but I’ve never found the answers in these strolls past the pastures daffodils and dark shaded daisies: flowers that I’ve always admired since they soaked up the sun and seemed to smile at me as I admired them from afar.

I made idiotic choices only a child would make. Holding onto emotions that should’ve been thrown into garbage bins and set ablaze with the ambitions of anything coming true; people have told me that I have some type of potential yet I don’t understand the things they see and say.

I found myself resorting back to finding comfort in the things that I claimed sobriety over, why? I truly don’t know. I never knew the importance of a coffin until we had to discuss on how to bury the ignorant family members around me who won’t listen to words of intelligence from doctors and friends.

I didn’t pity them; I’ve learned to not pity anyone, ever again. Whatever comes to you, and whatever actions that you take that do not involve me or my loved ones I don’t care. People feel sympathy for every painful event they see on the news and media. It has ceased to bother me. Doesn’t mean I’m naïve or it goes unnoticed I just don’t care anymore. Why should I feel sad or upset about something I can’t change?

I see no need to ever waste time and emotions for events we can’t control or do anything about. I suppose I learned to be this heartless when I realized the truth of the world.

 

 

 

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