January 9, 2012 03:13

Alone in a darkened, quiet hotel room. Deep thumps of heartbeat stop me from going to sleep. Conflicting emotions and feelings raging a feverish war. The perfect depressingly sombre scene for my deeply melodramatic self.

This is what you’ve been given. The path you’ve finally accepted. Too foolish for too long, to think that you can somehow be something you were never meant to be. Unwanted as a child, moved here and there, an excess baggage much too bothersome to keep, to continually take care of, and definitely not worth the time and effort to love. How did you imagine it would turn out any different? Oh silly, silly boy. Gay, strange, contradictory, insecure, different, tainted. Who would desire such a useless, broken thing. A disappointment can’t be a treasure, no matter how much or how long or how hard you try to fight against the odds; your vapid smile and lame submission, your sickly sweetness and delusional understanding, your laughable attempts at giving compassion and nurture that no one even wants.

Now can you finally hear their whispers behind your back? Your laziness, your incompetence, your selfishness, your fake qualities, your insanity, your cowardice, your dramatics, your illusions and delusions, your incapability. A failure of a son, a brother, a friend, a lover, a student, an employee, a person, a human being. A nothing who wished and believed he was a something. See now how they see you. And accept. This is who you are. Everything that you touched turned to shit and you would still delude yourself into believing they’re gold? Oh you stupid, stupid gay, strange, contradictory, insecure, different, tainted little boy. The naivete you mistake for your wisdom, the craziness you thought was your genius, the blindness you took as your philosophy.

If you had any integrity or bravery or decency, you’d kill yourself right now. You’d jump off that balcony and let your ugly head hit the asphalt. But no, you’re still alive. You’re just staring at it and thinking about it but you’d never do it. Because you’re just a scared little bitch boy who talked oh-so-much more than he could do. Disappear, end, and be forgotten. Oh the weight that would lift from everybody’s shoulders. And what now? Are you going to cry? Is the pathetic little gay boy going to start crying now? Having a pity party, are we? Dry your eyes and stop whimpering, slut. It’s disgusting. It’s not sensitivity, it’s weakness. It’s never vulnerability, it’s YOUR FUCKING EGO LYING TO ITSELF.

Oh the trouble you’ve caused, the pain you’ve brought, the regret that you are. Dirty, perverted, conceited, lying, thieving, callous being that would do the world a favour by stopping to exist. But since as a little sissy you would never grow the balls to take the graceful way out, the least you can do is be gracious and walk away. JUST LEAVE, BITCH! That was the one thing you were ever good at doing and boy, that was damn idiotic of you to ever stop.

Heed my advice little Micha: Give the fuck up.

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