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Unemotional.
For all these while, I've always alluded that I was somewhat crazy, schizophrenic, mentally deranged, bipolar or any other psychological illness that can strike a man. The reasons for such allusions were simple yet elusive, but I've finally found it, them. Expectations, I'd call that, they're not an actual responsibility, as I've established with myself that obligations only comes with position in an organized group of people. It is a more elaborated version of peer pressure, focusing on the effects of one who does not crumble under the pressure, there's no official medical logs stating it as an illness, but I believe it is something close to it, not a disease, but an impairment.
One does not need to be in a group to undergo peer pressure nor does one have to be outside of a group to feel his or her links to the appointed group severed. I myself have been a loner for many years, believing in lies called decency and civil responsibilities, before I've found out that such rules did not apply in life, they only apply to a singular person, that is more specifically, yourself. When others did not care for such decencies, there would still be a need for you to follow these self created rules, you will have to, especially for anyone who wishes to be orderly yet somewhat flakey. These needs would soon crush the person in question, will you continue to follow these self-created rules which reeks of nothing but masochism? Or will he throw away the trawl which has covered his true self for years? For me, the answer is unknown, I kept switching between the two, the lines have been blurred, my experimentation bearing bizzare results varying from two opposite poles of the graph. It is not abnormal, it is merely circumstantial, I switch states when it suits me, to my own gain.
In the end, it doesn't matter, these are the unique features that make me, and they shall stay. I once mused that I might be a great assasin, I would leave no trace, no remaining scent. Simply because I am a loner, from birth to death, I will still be one, I have accepted this fact. I will have friends, but only few would accept the terms I give, that I would be left alone. I've preferred to watch them, silently observing, listening, without intruding. Their lives are their own to live. Friends don't watch friends die, I cannot bring myself to recognize that saying as true, what is one to do when the only choice your friend is making are wrong ones? Ignore and watch, the importance of self precedes all others, simply said, let them die.
The sanity report? I'm not insane, I'm just unemotional towards everything in real life. I've seen, heard, felt too much of falsities, I've lost the real me. These salvaged pieces of intellect and conscience is me now. All innocence is lost, long ago. And I'm just fucking 17. What's one to say when one isn't even allowed to drink? What are the necessary falsities that everyone seems to loathe but do all the time. All people wants the truth, no matter how inconceivable, and that is exactly NOT the thing people are being provided with. I'm fed up, I need straight, edgy painful blows to the ribcage to remind me of how real this world made out of lies is. I've gotta get real, there's no way out of this, I'll have to learn to accept it, join in the crowd and expect myself to fit in by chanting what the crowd likes. To hell with individualism.
I must be high on crack. The words are not making sense to me. Like a fellow elder has told me, I think to fast and write too little down, I do not have a logical train of thought, it doesn't matter. No one cares enough for anything to do anything about anything. I declare that I shall be eliminated, no more EMO posts from me anymore, from now on you're only going to see a wall of text staring back at you telling you how much fun I had on the weekend licking a popsicle in 35 degrees celsius with no shirt on. Fuck, I'll need one right now. It's hot as heck.
