Un-Iversity, Part I

What you and I hear isn't the same.  I don't know what it's like for you, but you wouldn't look at me that way if you knew what it was like for me.  I try not to be disdainful.  I try to have empathy and understanding.  Most importantly, I try to understand that no matter…

My entire life is a waste of time.  Every day is the same.  I wake, go to work, class, whatever.  Come home and sleep.  Sleep is the only worthwhile thing I do anymore.  There's no good way to do this.  I can't be correct.  All I can be is a massive failure.&nbs...

How long have I wondered how much more I can take?  One year?  Five?  Ten?  At ten years old, the idea of making it to 18 was ludicrous; I was certain I would have killed myself by then.  The despair and pain was always so overwhelming that I didn't think there was any wa...

During the day, it's almost as though it's getting better.  At night I know better.  It's like I'm a round peg in a square hole--it fits, but it's not right.  And no matter what, there's all that extra space.  All that empty space. To the world, I am nothing.  To you, I a...

It's not so much self-pity, you know.  It's hard to tell.  At least I try to make it not be.  You know? But I miss myself and I see it in the normalcy around me.  And when They smile and laugh and cry I feel the twist of loathing and rage.  How dare they? And…

2 months since I last felt obligated to 'write' in this. College ends so early in the year.  May 4th was the last day of term, and that's rather late as far as college goes.  A mere 2 years ago, I was contemplating graduating high school. I miss myself. Or, rather, I guess I miss…

There's a spot in the book "Atlas Shrugged" where Henry Rearden's brother says "I am not your slave."  And Henry replies, "No.  Am I yours?"  You see, Rearden had spent his entire life providing for these people, and they did nothing except expect it a...

I think that's part of the problem.  Is it ironic that I am an idealist?  Not so much, when you think about it.  Cynicism is born from disappointment.  At some point it became easier to scoff than to stand behind my own dreams.  At least this way I can save face.  To...

The older I grow, the more certain I become that there is something missing.  Something essential.  Maybe even the most basic element of humanity.  I see these other people, happy, connected, secure that they are a part of something...or maybe just too ignorant to care that they're...

I want to destroy something.  But you don't fucking care.  I don't fucking care either.  It's ten thousand fucking degrees in here.  And I can't fucking sleep. I want to destroy something but all that I have is myself. and you don't fucking care. All I want is some justificati...