This lack leaves me but half; and that’s all I deserve anyway

My big thinks in the night when I can’t sleep really do not do anyone any good, because of how bluntly they reveal the truth. In most cases, I can’t handle it, and this time is no different. I’ve realised the unspoken truth and it does not surprise me. It’s settled, and though I’ve had similar thoughts before, I don’t see how there’s any reason against what I’ve come to see.

You see, I (which now sounds so distant and feels like tobacco on my tongue that I’d spit out if at all possible) am nothing. I’m nothing because I have not done anything to prove myself worthy of anything, and this goes for breathing, sleeping, plain existing. I’ve only bummed off 16 wasted years, and by the looks of it, am not going to prove anything anytime soon.

I am nothing.

This is a complete 180 from my previous post, where I took a more I’m-totally-all-that-I-don’t-need-any-of-you approach to life. Right now, it’s clear to me that I don’t deserve anyone, as opposed to feeling like I didn’t need them. But one thing’s stayed the same, at least. I don’t, and will never have, anyone.

I am nothing.

Why should anyone be tortured by having me on their tail, liking them? The idea is putridly laughable. Even I can’t stand the thought of it. Leagues and social standing have very, very little to do with this. It’s disgusting, at best, to imagine. If I ever liked you, I am deeply sorry. The beautiful people need someone to make them shine better, and I am that someone.

I’ll tell you what I do deserve. I deserve to sit in the sun and bake till I’m powder. I deserve to be spat on by the foulest-smelling hobo down the street. I deserve to have every diesease ever discovered invade my body at the same time. I deserve everything, and I deserve nothing.

I am everything.

To you, if you’ll ever see this, I’m throwing in my towel, however insignificant a move that is. I’m sorry. I’ll never bother you again. You, everyone, deserves a botherer who’s at least qualified to bother. I know being associated with me is absolute torture, so again, I’m sorry. I said before ‘have fun imagining me being shot’, now I say ‘have fun shooting me’. How bad do you say I just ruined my reputation? Haha.

Sometimes it’s okay to let the bus take you where it wants

I hate how all my blog titles are so literal. I'm very boring that way. So I took a bus that I've always taken to my house, except from a different stop, and this time it turned right when it wasn't supposed to. I didn't get lost, of course. How could you, in a country as small as this anyway? Still, on any other given day, I would've been absolutely freaked out, but I wasn't. Which leaves me wondering where all this sudden peace is coming from.

I mean, perhaps the book burning did do someting afterall. I don't know. All this is way above me. And if you wanted to know, yes, I ended up where I was supposed to. I even felt a little proud of myself, because if I had done anything 'smart', like get off the bus after it made the turn, I would've really been lost, and that's not cool. Not at all. Though getting lost is something very, very unlikely.

Also, I was thinking of setting up something stupid, like a music blog or a dream archive. What say you?