Deeper down I hate people, even most persons. I hate the way they talk at me, how some smile at me, how some call me their friend. Maybe I'm just jealous and bitter. Maybe I'm to much of a coward to tell them what I really feel.
Maybe I'm too complacent. Maybe I'm lonely. Lonely and bitter, that's probably it. And too complacent to trouble anyone with my problems. After all why should I? Everyone has there own problems to deal with, so why bother them with mine?
But then again, everyone seems to bother me with theirs. Why do perfect strangers go out of their way to tell me their problems? Maybe I really am that nice, caring, and compassionate person. Maybe I'm destined to be some sort of social pariah. Maybe I should grow a back bone and tell them all to FUCK OFF!
But would that help anything? This world just seems to be getting worse or maybe I'm just starting to notice how bad it's always been. I'm hoping I've just turned a blind eye to all the good out there. After all enough people and persons have told me I am a good person. So if that's true there must still be some good out there as I am living proof.
I am by no means saintly. I have my vices like everyone else. Maybe I just hide them better. I get angry over the smallest thing sometimes. It makes me want to break things and hurt people. For the most part I can keep this anger in check, but I'm worried that one day I'll lose that control and do something well worth regretting.
I also worry about the anxiety attacks that have occurred over the last few months. In public they stay pretty mild, but if severe enough I feel driven to get away from everyone. Once alone they get worse and I feel like I want to die. That scares me.
Sometimes it seems like it would be so easy to do. I suppose it would if I set my mind to it. But that would be a coward's way out and my pride won't let me do that. I know physically I'm not the strongest person around but in my heart I'm a warrior. Life is a battle and I intend to win.
This is what gets me through my days. This is my counter to my anxiety attacks. This is my reason for living. Maybe I'm kind and caring. Maybe I'm bitter and angry. Maybe I'm all of it. All I know at this moment is that this had been my rant about the world and my confession of self. I feel lighter than I did when I started. Maybe this is what I needed to do to start the next part of my journey.
