I come to realize that I hate everyone that has my personality.
My know-it-all pretense to mask my ignorance on how to become a functional human being.
My obsession with looking fine and fitting into society because deep down I never belong anywhere.
My judgmental view on everything that stemmed from my need for validation. What I wear. What I buy. What I talk about. Validate me. Tell me I'm great. Tell me I'm the best because the lie I tell myself is not sufficient.
So no! I wasn't talking about you. Unfortunately, I was talking about me. It's a form of self-loathe. Maybe you haven't heard of that before because you're so in love with who you are or who you led people to think you are.
Oh fuck. I did it again. I do that. I am the one who's so in love with idea of me. I am the own who pretend to be everything. Who the fuck am I in this world? Do I love myself? Do I hate myself? Make up your mind, god damn it.
Why am I acting this way? I don't want you to form an opinion about me. Because I know.. I know I'm flawed. I hate myself for being flawed. Oh God I hate this dark cloud in my head. Am I sick? Give me something to treat it.. Or a poison to kill it.
Some days I feel like stabbing my thigh just to get out of this numb shell..