'Generally, our knowledge is imperfect. We cannot know anything. The only exception to this is mathematics. There, knowledge is pure. Unlike your precious English, you cannot dispute that two plus two equals four.''You say that as if it's a bad thing.''It is.''Well, you are, of course, correct.''Evidently.''But that means nothing. I have never experienced joy when trying to figure out an equation. I have never looked at a mathematical proof and thought, 'That perfectly describes how I am feeling'. English tends to my soul and my feelings. They, I would argue, are far more important.'
I've been dead for a long time now. Dead so long, I've forgotten what it feels like to feel anything.I can't remeber when, or even how, I died. I assume it was painless. It's better this way. I no longer have to suffer intolerable feelings. My mind can no longer mock me. My mind can't do anything, anymore. There is no pain, no joy, no work. I no longer regard myself as useless. I no longer have to worry whether people actually like me, or just too polite to tell me to go away.It was a good move, dying.
I am used to metaphorically vomiting in front of you. Luckily, I didn't really do that today.Instead, I physically vomited in front of you.If I could move the stars to form an apology in the sky, I would.Nevertheless, I did learn some important things.I will stand up for myself more. I will insult you more. I will, like the butler in 'The Remains of the Day', try to improve my bantering.I will hold you to the dance you promised. I will not fall in a ditch. I will not collapse. I will get better soon.
A day of paradoxes.I've never felt so depressed, or felt so wonderful.I've never cried with laughter, and felt like my heart was crying.I've never felt more loved, or more alone.Are you simply testing me? Are you trying to make me angry, to make me stand up for myself?Or are you simply slipping away, distancing yourself from me for whatever reason?Why did you lie to me? Why have you stopped talking?What have I done wrong?How could it have changed so quickly?What do you want?What can I do?All I have is questions.
I read poetry by Ted Hughes and listened to Blues music.I felt more like myself. By that, I mean that I felt alone, pathetic and destined to spend the rest of my life without anyone beside me.I think that reading and music act as an anesthetic. They help to numb my fears and anxieties, for a short while. They stop my mind from idly scarring my thoughts, for a short while.The worst thing is that I have become a horrible cliche. A depressed teenage boy. I have succumed to the steryotype. I can't change.I can't.