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My Worth (Reprise)

Interference blows. Every time I sit down to write about how I feel, some idiot in my head starts writing things about an existence that doesn’t seem real.

I wish it was real. I wish the destroyers were well on their way and I could countdown to the destruction of our species. To the day that the world would be repopulated with all the things that were destroyed by humanity. I sure hope there are spacelings who came before we were prolific enough to destroy The Garden of Eden and cataloged all the species on the planet. That would be so lovely. We should give the planet back — just look at what we’ve done to it.

I feel worthless. That’s the point I was trying to get to. Whatever is residing in my brain pan and observing me (which might just be a bout of schizophrenia paranoia, it does run in my family) is just plain annoying. It makes no fucking sense. It told me I’m the Buddha and it’s not enlightened, so that’s why it’s here to watch me. Then it told me it’s already enlightened and lied to me some more, until I screamed and howled in fury at it, hurling logic like bullets to poke holes in its veneer. It’s really not so logically strong, after all.

Then it told me something I’m thinking about. That this is like Shiva going after Laxmi, trying to deprive Vishnu of his wife. All the while, he is avoiding Kali completely, his proper mate according to all I’ve read. (I have no idea, honestly, why do gods need wives? Why do wives need gods?) The bottom line is that this entity really can’t keep a straight face or a straight story for more than a few days at a time, which I find interesting.

If it’s schizophrenia paranoia, then why is it I make it laugh all the time? How? I watched D.C. Benny last night, all his skits on YouTube, and this entity laughed and laughed, having fit after fit of joy. Then it told me I raped him by watching it. I think it’s a him, anyway. He’s rather obsessed with the female anatomy, staring at it through my brain like a rapscallion. I wish he had a body so I could kick him in the balls over and over again until he died.

I’m not really the violent sort, but after 18 months of sheer stupidity (not quite insanity– I think you have to be more creative for that), I’m just done. I don’t want to be alive anymore.

I wish I could say I don’t believe I’m worthless. That I know I have a purpose and a use and that someone is out there waiting to love on me so hard I’ll need to come up for air again and again. It’s just not true. Nobody gives a shit that I exist. I’m just one face in a sea of stupidity and neglect and unhappiness. I am shapeless, I am amorphous, I am nothing at all, really.

“When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” — Lao Tzu

I cannot be anything with a dickhead in my ear, telling me I’m going to be rich or famous or whatever it is that he thinks I’d want in this lifetime that’s not love. He never tells me I’m going to be loved. Like it’s a fucking given that someone, somewhere will love me. I show people they are loved. I know I’m flawed and I don’t say it as often as I could, but even if this partition of my brain (or this phantom who has taken residence, or whatever the fuck is plaguing me and making me insane) is trying to show me the flaw in my own behavior, it’s wrong.

I absolutely show people that I love them. I keep my word (he doesn’t.) I do not back down in the face of failure; I redo it until it’s done right. (He doesn’t.) I do not make my words and my actions dissonant, I do not make them fail to match. They always agree. But lately? Nah, just fucking forget to follow through, he says. He will literally stop me from being able to move my body in order to force me to fail to follow through. I literally cannot move sometimes because he is between me and my body, this entity invading my space, my mind, my life.

I don’t give a shit if this is going to be labelled as schizophrenia with depression. That’s not what I seem to be experiencing. No, I am living a lie. A life created by a lesser individual who cannot seem to understand that failing to do what one says they are going to do is lying to other people. Breaking promises = lies and lying. Making promises without intention of fulfillment is lying.

Humanity, you are all lying sacks of shit. That is my judgment of the human race. Very few people follow through. Very few beings try to accept an entity exactly as they present themselves, allowing them to follow their own path to becoming the best self they can dream up. Most of you will tell someone how not to behave and then tell them the correct way to behave. SHAME ON YOU. You are a flawed fucking being and this is a coward’s bullshit game at control. I hate you all for it.

I talk too much. I joke around too much. I’m too hyperbolic. I’m over-dramatic. Blah blah blah. I am not. You are incapable of handling me as I am and that is your limitation. I am the person I decided to become and your lack of support has been noted. I reject you for rejecting me. I never wanted to be the perfect automaton, but you made me into one with your bitching and moaning constantly over every little thing. I withdrew into myself until, one day, I imploded.

I hope you’re happy. I’m definitely not. I had an identity once that had nothing to do with computers, Pamela S. Battko, you utter fucking bitch. I was an artist but “there’s no money in art! You have a great scientific mind! Chase that instead! Don’t follow your passion! Follow your brain and not your heart!” Are you doing that yourself? You’re allowing yourself to be hated upon. You are soaking up hatred and hurting yourself, you are murdering the person you were born to be.

That’s why you’re not happy. That’s why you’re not sane. That’s why life is too busy and crazy. You’re trying to be all the things you’re not for someone else, trying to seek their approval. It is only when you decide the approval of others is pointless and worthless that you can begin to see your own self-worth.

I have none now, however. There is no value in my life. I have zero will to live. I screamed at God for six hours today to take my life, since he won’t let me suicide. I told him he’d better end me soon. Not like “you’ll be sorry!” but more like… I’m not going to gain a use. I have no desire to be useful. I am a drain on society. The only thing I’m good for is taking care of my parents and that’s where I end. Cinderelly, Cinderelly!

I have no identity because this asshole in my head overrides it completely, always talking and bitching and moaning about everything. I’m sick of the negativity, people. You have destroyed the most beautiful planet. The only planet that can sustain us. And instead of fixing it, you just try to launch into outer space to go to another planet to do it again. Instead of fixing it, you use all your energy to bitch about how this place isn’t good enough, how it’s lacking, how it’s never what you wanted or needed. Just go kill yourself already if it’s so fucking bad!

I’m too sick for this shit. I’m out.

“They’re going to kill you for writing about me. They’re going to kill you for talking about Buddhism like it’s real. They’re going to kill you for having an existential crisis! You’re going to die!!!!!”

Excellent. Suicide by assholes to prove humanity is full of assholes. Checkmate, rando entity in my head. You die when I die, at the very least.

#FightClub isn’t supposed to be real.

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