I wondered if 'raging against the dying of the light' was the way out. It always sounded so clever!
But if you fight fire with fire, don't you get a bigger fire? Seems obvious at first, so I actively fought to stop myself from fighting.
I find it funny, how everything cycled again. They both ended up in an identical spot. I thought it would be over by that point. It may as well be now, after all, how can the cycle start over if you start from where it ended last time?
As the voices from the machine get louder you realize it was you all along. You knew, but you still needed to realize. They grew increasingly perverse, and turned from a voice of doubt and insecurity to one of sternness and anger.
There was quite the fight. As dumb as I've ever seen it, and you know it. I'm mildly saddened, seing that other self right there, lifeless. The first was killed by the second, the second was killed by others. Fascinating, you were supposed to end yourself, not give that pleasure to another. Fascinatingly horrid.
As infuriating as it is, I used to have the strenght. And I could've survived easily. I could just rip the band aid off, even if by band aid I mean a sword through the chest. But the arms had grown too weak. It would've been great if they have done so because of so much fighting, but no, they grew weak because they started biting them off bit by bit. And I wasn't bothered to stop it, I thought I was doing the right thing. When people end up saddened of what they lost, what else can they do but look into themselves and reflect on how they killed it. And in whatever afterlife this beast finds themselves, they can do nothing but look in disgust at everything they didn't do. While another, with a very unkind fanged grin, grabs the weapon and breaks it. It's chest has a peculiar mark. Proof of an end that had been defined, and proof of a life that was lost. For some it would be a sad reminder of how things used to be. For others, a driving factor, an encouraging reminder that it won't happen again even if everyone tried. Then the time for reflection will come. Or am I just overplaying it? We all know that regardless of how many forms I take, the end is where I began.
We have a saying. No do-gooder comes out with good. The kind of thing you don't want to believe until you have your strenght sucked out by the people you thought you were doing good to. The people that got so in use to your prescence and your kindness that they couldn't even thank you for it anymore, and instead demanded change. And for the longest time you just hold the sword deeply dug through your chest, agreeing with them. Perhaps I never did good, perhaps I'm just thinking I'm much better than I actually am, perhaps I'm just stuck in some cringey victim mindset, pretending I deserve anything.
But no. That doesn't sound quite right.
I did everything right. Or at least, I didn't do anything wrong. And what I get are chains in my ankles while I desperately try to fight my mirror before it ends me. In the end it ended me. Becuse as I tried to fight I was reminded that I'm not proper.
A "thank you" would've been more than enough, but instead I was told "I would be more than ok with it not happening".
Oh how low has my life gone that this is the kind of thing I break because of. I would've fought, I could've fought, but my hands were tied. Nothing is quite as frustrating as being able to do something, but having other people preventing you from doing it.
Then you end up critizised, treated like the bad one, because "oh you think you do everything right, don't you?"
So sometimes you begin lying to yourself, convincing yourself that maybe you ARE the problem. Regardless of how you look at it, you have done nothing wrong, but hey, they people you care about keep telling you you have, and keep throwing your best efforts away. Maybe you are the problem, and the bunch of people so ungrateful and entitled that they slowly eat away at your hope of being something good aren't. Ah. But you care too much. And you know that regardless of whatever form I take, you'll still eat away at me, telling me how they mean well. if they didn't I couldn't feed, after all, right?
Well, does their willingness to pay anything just look at you eating away at yourself imply they are doing it for you? or are they doing it for the things you do?
Look at you now, dead and sinking into your own sea. I'd feel more ashamed if you weren't dead right now, I couldn't have you walking around still, it'd make me sick. look at what you let words do to you!
You can rest now, though.
I'll take it from here.
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2 years, 3 months ago
21 Oct 2022 11:05 CEST
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