Sheep vs Wolf

"Hey, do you think me doing [insert whatever life decision here] is bad or good? Do you think people will think of me in [insert whatever negative thing here].?"

Why would you ask me this? Why would you ask anyone this? You're an adult, you know what's right and what's wrong. You also know what you want and what you don't want in life, or at least in your current phase in life. What I think of it is, or what anyone thinks of it for that matter, is irrelevant, unless you want it to.

So let me ask YOU a question, do you want my opinion to matter in your life decisions?

Need Patrick Jane or Cal Lightman

Have you ever told other people one thing, but do another? Don't shit me, because I know everyone does that. I do it all the time. I tell people I'll be studying for a test or something, but I end up binge watching The Inbetweeners on fucking Netflix. Why do we do this? Why do you do it?

Well I do it because I'm a liar.

We all lie. Again, don't give me any of your crap because WE ALL LIE. What degree our lies go to is a different matter. Why we lie is also a different matter. Also, there's a distinction between lying and being a liar. Me? I'm a fucking liar.

I lie everyday. I lie to everyone. Most people have tells that show they are lying, but me? I've been lying my whole life I don't have a tell, or maybe people just can't find it yet. Hell, even I don't know my tell. Lies just come out of my mouth like chocolate milk flowing to the mouth of a fatso.

I even lie to myself, and I believe them.

Fuck me I have issues.

Postal

It's funny, spending the night in a hospital ward because someone asked you to. Sure, you feel shitty and hopeless and helpless and maybe a little suicidal, but who would've guessed someone asked you, nicely, to go to a hospital to get checked out?

It's been a weird few weeks. It's three-quarters past 2015 and I still feel the same way I did mid 2014. I watched TI4 and TI5 and saw a shitload of changes to all Dota 2 teams. Honestly all the teams nowadays change like, as Katy Perry famously says, a girl changes clothes. It makes you feel old, how the Dota calendar changes so much. It's only been a year, yet so many changes around me. I, however, have not changed much.

I'm still not sure what the fuck is wrong with me.

It's frustrating to sit at one spot for more than a year. You get bed sores. You get cramps. You also get sympathisers. And like all bed-ridden vegetables, you can't do shit about it. At least veges know what disease they have. It's a simple thing, physical diseases; they get diagnosed with a simple scan or test. Not my case, though, not my case.

Motivation still eludes me. Sleep has been a come-and-go, sort of like an on-again-off-again affair. Fuck knows when I'll finish my assignments. I hate what I'm learning. I don't know what to do with my life. I also hate my life. I can continue, but people are going to think I'm some attention-seeking slacker who needs his balls licked by people on the internet. Fact of the matter is, I'm one gigantic fuck-up.

And all I want to do is trying to survive day-to-day.

So excuse me if I sound pathetic, if I seem to just want attention, if I write like a fucking degenerate, if I'm being obnoxious, if I'm being immature, if I look like a fool, if I fucking annoy you with my shit writing, or whatever negative ifs you can possibly think of. I have a life to live, and though it may not be as hard as our Middle-Eastern brothers and sisters, it's fucking terrible. Its. Fucking. Terrible. All I'm doing is trying to cope. So again, ex-fucking-cuse me.

I never wanted all this. You want to know my life goals? I just want a life where I can just contact someone, just one person, and tell literally anything without a shadow of a doubt that he/she will either laugh or say the right things to either humour me or comfort me. I want a life where I wake up in the morning and look forward to the day. I want a life where I can go out without feeling ashamed of myself. It's not much, but hey, life just wants to be a fucking bitch, so nuh-uh.

I'm pretty sure everyone will say their life is shitty from time-to-time, and I'm pretty sure they're right. I'm also pretty sure people will call me a crybaby and say fuck you fat fuck just grow a pair and live like normal people who have problems in life. Well, to that, I say fuck your whore mother. I don't expect you to understand. I just expect you to respect my life and how I choose to live it, as long as I don't come and shag your slut of a mother, which I won't, because I respect her.

Sorry for my language. I'm just a tad frustrated. My imagination runs wild at this hour and all I can think of is the world antagonising my entire life.

Maybe the whole world is.

Limits

The amount of times I say the word "fuck" per day is impossible to keep track of. I'm by no means a religious person. I believe in God and everything, don't worry. However, sometimes I just can't help thinking that God may have just abandoned me.

It's not a good thought to have, I know, but sometimes, you know, sometimes. Things become shitty at every turn, almost nothing goes your way, and people around you just seem to show you the middle finger; these all take a toll at a man's soul. Everyone has their limit, no matter how strong or resilient they are. I'm a mere human being. I have doubts about life and death.

I haven't come face-to-face with death just yet, God forbid it would be anytime soon. I have so much love to give, so much happiness to find, and there are people who love me, but sometimes, sometimes, these things don't seem to matter. Sometimes all I want is to die, and my imagination runs amok as to how I'd die. 

This makes it dangerous for me to go out. The things that I could do to kill myself out in the open, oh don't get started on it. 

And now I'm starting to sound dark. 

Don't be afraid, I've never had the guts to follow through with my suicidal plans. I have a coping mechanism; I force my adrenaline to rush the fuck out into my veins. I do stupid things. I approach death in safe ways. I do it so I know the feeling of almost dying, and trust me, it doesn't feel so good, at least not how I imagined it would be.

Death is painful, there's not doubt about that. Your whole body system failing one by one, your fingers numbing, then your limbs, then your abdomen, then your voice becomes hoarse and finally that one last breath you take. I can never imagine how it feels like. I've heard the stories of a prophet who tasted death and was resurrected immediately so he knew the feeling of dying. He described it as "being stabbed by 40 swords" or something, and fuck me I almost cried like a bitch when I first got an injection.

The sad thing is though, I always have to remind myself that death by my own hands is not worth it. I constantly need to tell myself there are people who love me, there's so much love in me that I need to spread, and there are so many things I haven't done, things I haven't seen. I haven't seen the tulip gardens of The Netherlands, The Kremlin, Japan, Ireland, Scotland, the Scandinavian countries. I haven't eaten the best foods in the world, gone skydiving, been on a surfboard, hike a mountain.

So many things.

Yet, I'm a mere human being. I have my limits as well. It's a battle of me against myself, or my demons, or whatever. I honestly have no idea what I'm up against, but it's one tough son of a bitch. The outcome of this battle cannot be a stalemate. My enemy, it doesn't want to stop. One day, either I or this entity will emerge victorious, and the whole world will know.