S
secondplace
Guest
The other day I had a panic attack.
I was walking through London alone, in the Oxford Circus area, and I was just so overwhelmed by complete and total self-loathing that I just wanted to fall to my knees and scream and cry and rip myself apart right there.
It happens more often than you'd think.
It's not like I have nothing going for me. I've been told I'm nice, talented, funny, pretty. Once, even, as I lay naked on my bed, my lover ran his fingers down the white skin of my chest and stomach and told me in a hushed voice that I was truly beautiful.
He's long gone now. So are the rest of them.
I think there's something fundamentally wrong with me. Something repulsive living inside of me that people recognize instantly. That's why I have no one. The few people who have loved me saw the thing in the end, and that's why I'm alone now.
I have no family, no friends, no future. I wander around alone, pretending I have somewhere to go. I sit alone in coffeeshops, glancing at my watch and pretending I'm meeting someone. I've even sunk so low as to carry on fake conversations into my phone so that people won't guess that I have no one to talk to.
I think some people are put on this earth to feel the pain that others never have to. They are born with a sickness inside them that makes the world hate them, so that the world will know the difference between hate and love. Or does that sound too Christ-complex to you?
"Those who should love me walk right through me/I am a ghost/And as far as I know/ I haven't even died."
-Morrisey
I was walking through London alone, in the Oxford Circus area, and I was just so overwhelmed by complete and total self-loathing that I just wanted to fall to my knees and scream and cry and rip myself apart right there.
It happens more often than you'd think.
It's not like I have nothing going for me. I've been told I'm nice, talented, funny, pretty. Once, even, as I lay naked on my bed, my lover ran his fingers down the white skin of my chest and stomach and told me in a hushed voice that I was truly beautiful.
He's long gone now. So are the rest of them.
I think there's something fundamentally wrong with me. Something repulsive living inside of me that people recognize instantly. That's why I have no one. The few people who have loved me saw the thing in the end, and that's why I'm alone now.
I have no family, no friends, no future. I wander around alone, pretending I have somewhere to go. I sit alone in coffeeshops, glancing at my watch and pretending I'm meeting someone. I've even sunk so low as to carry on fake conversations into my phone so that people won't guess that I have no one to talk to.
I think some people are put on this earth to feel the pain that others never have to. They are born with a sickness inside them that makes the world hate them, so that the world will know the difference between hate and love. Or does that sound too Christ-complex to you?
"Those who should love me walk right through me/I am a ghost/And as far as I know/ I haven't even died."
-Morrisey