Do You Ever Feel Like Everyone Around You Is Annoyed By You, They Want You Around Cause They'll Feel

I don’t know how much i can resist anymore,i can feel my life it’s coming to an end.

Margaret Atwood, from “Europe on $5 a Day”, The Door

— Virginia Woolf, from “Carlyle’s House and Other Sketches.”

"Stars, hide your fires; Let not light see my black and deep desires."

- William Shakespeare // Macbeth

I want to destroy everything. I want to ruin my life, smash glass bottles agaisnt walls, run away into the night and get in trouble, scream and yell at the top of my lungs, get into fist fights, and stand up for myself. I want to be so so angry and loud about how awful I feel that everyone realizes that I was never okay, and I was never going to be okay, and that they left me behind to suffer. But I'm too tired. I'm too tired to move, to think. I just want to lay in bed all day and ignore the world. I just slap on a neutral face and do as I'm told. I wish I could be so angry about how sick I've become, but instead I keep quietly to myself, and live another miserable tired day.

I've seen so many times things like:

Think about the people that you'll hurt.

Why tho?

Why do I have to think of someone else?

What about me?

Fire: Rambling #16

19th April 2022, 00:56

When I was an child to early teenager, I really liked fire. In fact, I was obsessed with fire. I guess you could call me a pyromaniac. I would set fire to a lot of things in all shapes and sizes. Socks, underwear, toilet paper, you name it. Sometimes I would hang toilet paper between posts and set the middle on fire just to see the paper fall apart. Sometimes I would roll paper into faux cigarettes and set fire to the end just to scare drivers into thinking a child was smoking tobacco (I still don’t smoke, although I have had the occasional cigarette, but I think that’s primarily an excuse for me to carry my lighter around with me, I’m still attached to it). I had a stalker back in high school (but that’s a story for another day). She would copy everything I did. One of the things she copied was my obsession with fire. So, one day when I was at her house, she brought me some lighters. Of course, I made a SAFE fire in her garden. But, she was an idiot, and so was her little brother. They left the lighters beside the fire. Seeing this, I backed away and hid behind a car. The stalker followed me, none the wiser. Her little brother stayed by the fire. Three, two, one, and the thing caused a chain reaction of explosions between the lighters. It was so loud. I remember her mum running outside and screaming doolally. Luckily, or rather unlucky because I hated the little shit (he chased me around with a roller skate as a weapon once and I wanted nothing more than to smash his head against the corner of the mantelpiece), her brother was unharmed. It didn’t deter me from my arson. I still set fire to things. I was not afraid of fire. People would ask me to make their fires on the beach and they were always so surprised at 1. my ability to make a fire from nothing and 2. how I was so nonchalant when handling the flames. As aforementioned, I still carry my lighter with me. You never know when you’ll need to set your old high school on fire.

~ 化け猫 (Bakeneko)