lol if im not walking u to class id just b walking with a friend to class anyway :P. i never skip class, but im almost always a minute late XD. but yeah ok, i get what ur saying. haha u know the only reason i follow u around school is cause i never get to see u after school :P. cause like… if i dont, i would never ever see u. but ok. also ur message was cut short, right after ‘more responsible to get my mental health taken’

unless…liv? lol congratulations on finding out my entire emotional history XD

Here’s the logic that kept me going since 2nd grade: 1. life as a general rule sucks. 2. Suicide will devastate everyone who I know and love. 3. therefore, suicide is not an option. 4. happiness feels better than sadness. 5. so, given i must survive, and striving for happiness is a more comfortable state of surviving than is sadness, I must strive for happiness.

essentially, better make the most of a bad situation

I didn’t examine myself any more until sophomore year when all of a sudden I got really sad. It was because I met a girl who made me happy for the first time in my life. See, as an aspergers kid, I was an emotional cripple for most of my childhood. Like, I felt no emotions, and took everything literally, and was generally a robot. But she was alive, and she made me alive. She dumped me of course, seeing as she lives in China, and I the sudden contrast left me depressed. After months of meditation, self reflection, philosophizing, and crappy poem writing, I trained myself to have and control emotions. With emotions, I realized how great it is to be happy.

I realized that life is worth living in he pursuit of happiness.

That’s where I am now.

I am happy :D

Insanity

The gun. The irresistible, tempting gun. I stared at it, willing it to disappear, yet I felt implacably drawn towards the silver revolver as I packed my oppressively ordinary backpack. The cold steel possessed a certain alluring sheen, inviting me into its deadly embrace. I had bought that gun for protection. For protection, I had told everyone. For protection, I had told myself. Today was not the first day I had found myself locked in a staring contest with that same gun. It had always been there, in that drawer, daring me to take it out, mocking me. I’m weak, it told me. I’m worthless, it said, its cold barrel pressed against my temple, penetrating my soul, dredging up my every failure, shortcoming, and loss. I couldn’t even pull that damned trigger. My half hearted attempts to finally do it, to finally end it all at the end of my own shaking revolver, ended only in another failure of my life. There is no escape, I think to myself as I leave through a door left unlocked, almost as if I was hoping for a break in, a robbery, anything to interrupt this mundane, monotonous march to the death. And yet I know that it would not change anything. Nothing would ever change the torturous repetitions of life. There was only one end, the final end, the final stop. But I was afraid. I couldn’t do it. I’m a coward.

Achievement of your happiness is the only moral purpose of your life, and that happiness, not pain or mindless self-indulgence, is the proof of your moral integrity, since it is the proof and the result of your loyalty to the achievement of your values.

Achieving life is not the equivalent of avoiding death.

Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice.

Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark. In the hopeless swaps of the not-quite, the not-yet, or the not-at-all, do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists. It is real. It is possible. It is yours.

Poems

Apathy, this is thy name.

That turns the fierce into the tame.

Apathy, this is my curse,

That forces me to write this verse.

I’m lost

In that surreal,

Fantastic meta-world

Of the what if,

Of the what could have been.

I feel myself drawn implacably towards

These thoughts of unequivocal joy,

Of unequivocal pain,

And I wish only that it had been like this,

That I had had the courage to make it so,

That I had had the courage to be myself.

But no

Instead I am trapped

In the mercilessly irrevocable present,

Doomed to live out my self-determined fate,

Doomed to live out my life as I made it.

I’m lost

In the vague, murky swamps

Of my own apathetic indifference.

My fire gone, my flame extinguished

I drone on and on through my pathetic life.

I feel my soul struggling to breathe

Through the heavy, suffocating flesh of my body

At times I reach, through the dull, pallid ooze,

Grasping for something to pull me through.

At times I can almost taste the fresh air of freedom

Through the gruesome, macabre muck around me,

And I yearn for it.

But I know it will never be. There is no escape

From this sickening slumber, this dull paralysis

That has become my existence. That has become what I am.

I am trapped forever, falling faster and faster and faster

Into this slushy quicksand that I know is my doom.

And there is nothing I can do.

Trapped.

Lost.

No way out

Of this mundane, monotonous march

To nowhere.

Nothing to do,

Nothing left for me.

I’m done,

But for this.

This world of nothing.

This repetitive existence.

Rote, not ritual.

The Rain

The day begins and soon I am lost

In a damp, dark, oppressive storm

That is my life and my existence.

I see no escape. I see no end.

God has forsaken me.

Nowhere to go, nothing to do

Or be done

Except for the mundane, monotonous march

That has become my sole purpose.

Until evening falls.

I go home. The day’s oppressions are lifted.

It had rained.

I am lost

Gasping for breath,

My own wretched apathy

Beleaguering my very thoughts,

Wearing them down, deteriorating

Any hope of escape.

All that is left is to travel onward,

Unthinking, unwillful, uncaring.

What was once a bright,

Magnificent flame,

Now extinguished. All thought vanished.

Just a mindless being,

Working ceaselessly,

Mercilessly, and mindlessly

Towards a goal unknown,

Towards a goal unwanted.

Resurrection:

I reach,

Tentative and impassioned,

To see just that small glimpse of happiness

That I know not of,

But wish to be so.

I reach. I search.

I find. I love.

I grasp and take hold.

My first breathe of air,

Sweet and profound.

Wonderful. Out. Gone.

I see the light.

I am found.

False Idols- written with a random selection of SAT vocab

A warm, saccharine aroma floating by on wispy zephyrs,

Obstreperous crowds pushing and jostling to see

The sacrosanct potentate, resplendent in shining sapphires,

The one everyone would love to be.

But I sit by, iconoclastic in my fervent abnegation,

A maverick, wishing people to see the folly of this nation.

I am lost

Once more I have fallen

Into the darkest depths of despair.

Once more I am gone

Cast from the happy world of the oh so effervescent living.

I am doomed this way

To always fall back

No matter how hard I try

No matter how I yearn to truly live

I want it

I need it

But instead

I am a shadow walking in their midst

The sun may come out, and strength will return

But only for a while.

For as night falls my power once more dwindles

It is sapped from me

Leeches on my soul

I can’t resist it

I create this horrifying cycle of darkest night

I am repelled by my own potential

Sent reeling by the mere thought of success

I find myself deserving failure

It is a feeling of the purest evil

A feeling that makes me hate myself all the more

There is no escape

I am only to bear this torture

That I mercilessly cause myself.

This is my existence.