Introduction to F

There isn’t much I like to discuss with friends and or family. Over the years I learned that keeping everything on the “low” is a much better way of avoiding any sort of conflict. I might even update my profile so that, on the off chance, I don’t get recognized. My friends seem to think I have grown colder and at times I feel the same, but that’s not the case. I’ve grown, I have grown older, wiser, I have learned from my past mistakes. But I am still young and have much to learn, the process will sometimes suck but I’ll learn regardless.

This life of mine, I hate it. I am in mental agony every morning, every night all because I can’t fix the things I regret. I want nothing more than to just not be a fuck up, for everything to be all sunshine and rainbows but I’ll never get that. There will always be something to bring the clouds, the rain, the thunder, back. I wish to leave, in any way I can. To disappear, gone into the wind so that no one I once knew can recognize me and update me on everyone’s lives.

I am filled with such a nihilistic approach to life that find myself wanting to rip everything apart. I am unconventional at times, my personality is the only thing I have going for me and even then I don’t have a damn thing going for me. Lately, recently actually, everything seems to be spiraling out of control. There seems to be nothing I can do, nothing I can say, and it’s all on me. I know what I should do, but I also know that I won’t ever be able to accomplish it. It drags my already soulless body down even further, my lifeless eyes looking off into the distance hoping that one day I’ll just fall down with no energy left to give and rest for once.

I’m so tired of it all, I want to cry but I just stare into nothing. My mind is all over the place, I can barely focus on my writing. I am scared, terrified of losing everything I have left. Losing all that I have gained. My hands shakes and my legs become weak, I am ill. But I know I can pull myself together long enough to finish this even if it’s unfocused. I just need to breath in and take everything slow.

Look, I know my format may seem sloppy and unfocused, but I write how I think. I write what’s on my mind without filter, without fear of judgment. Up above is what’s been on my mind for quite a bit and just need to air it all out, I don’t care what other people may think of me, negative or positive. As long as I am able to get my words across, my points across, as long as there are even a handful of people that can understand me then that’s all that matters. Whenever anyone reads my work, my girlfriend especially, I look for understanding. If they cannot make it past the first paragraph, then I have failed as a writer.

Sometimes however, I don’t expect anyone to understand me or my writing. I can sometimes feel myself losing my touch with reality and going insane. Who’s to say I’m not already? Maybe I’m a mad man in world that’s already mad. Would that make me sane? If everyone is mad like me, would that not mean we are all the same making us sane, because being insane would mean we are normal? Who knows, I am probably rambling like I almost always do, but it doesn’t matter though because this is an introduction so I hope that you can make sense of the madness that can be writing.