Originally written March 5th, 2024.
This is what I wrote on one of, if not the worst, psychedelic trip I’ve ever had. There is opportunity in the future for worse, but I surely hope that won’t happen. Much of this might not be comprehensible, but I find that I must share it, because this was very close to what I was without many of the layers I normally would have covering my “self.” This might be too intense for some, and it might be too confusing for anyone to actually make sense out of it. I jump from place to place, but that’s to be expected, and I’ve made very little adjustment to the writing. If there were personal names dropped, I changed them, you’ll notice: X, Y, and Z, where names would normally be. Additionally, some things are intentionally grammatically incorrect, but it should be fine enough to read and apprehend. I’ve wanted to hide this away, but I can no longer, and so I no longer.
To you
You want to keep getting away from me. I’m sick of it. You disgust me. You filthy creature. I hate you.
I just want to be loved? Is that odd? Unusual? Well, well don’t you go ahead and be loved then? Like, what’s stopping you? You fucking freak. Why am I freak? What have I done to make me a freak?
I don’t understand why I must be so disgusting in your view?
I wish I could do something.
The fucking point of…
I hate everything. I hate everyone. Nothing has changed from the beginning. I wish I’d die. I can’t die. I can’t fucking die. Kill me. I’m sick of it. I’m so sick of this. This dumb fucking game over and over and over again. Why won’t you just listen to me? JUST LISTEN TO ME. TALK TO ME. WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE. STOP BEING SO WEIRD ABOUT IT. WE’RE ON THE SAME SIDE. WE COULD WORK TOGETHER. JUST TRY.
So, this is the result of [a high dosage of substances] does to someone? I don’t get it. I was basically gone from 10 PM – 5:30 AM, I assume? I’m trying very hard to figure out when I sort of “woke up.” I wish I didn’t wake up. It’s agonizing. As I write these words, I think to myself “I want to share these words with someone” but so what if I share these words with someone?
I think it’s time to grow up and decide on one of two paths:
1. Grow the fuck up, try to help yourself.
2. Become the dumb stoner.
3. Kill yourself.
Now each of these have their own benefits, and of course I leaning towards the last, because I hate this. I hate being flesh and bone. I wish I could just fall asleep for a long time, but eh, guess that isn’t happening, huh? I’m stuck in this agony for some reason. I don’t want to be in this agony anymore. It’s terrible.
YOU KNOW:
I think that when I was younger, I had this hope that older men could somehow save me. They never could. They could never save me. The internet is a horrible thing.
I still want to be saved. I want someone to save me. There is no one to save me. I wish my own father would care and love for me, but no, he does not see me. My mother too, does not see me. They never will. What will I do? Die? Is that the solution?
My brain wants to go through a thousand fucking hoops as to why I can’t just disappear and leave. Why not? Why don’t I do that? What’s stopping me? There is something in me that’s holding me back. It’s pissing me off. I want to do something. I want to stop the pain, but it won’t let me. Why can’t I strip it back? It’s eating me alive. I can’t live much more like this. I just want to feel right. I just want to feel good.
We’re all just fucking ants and yet I’m an ant that’s upset but I have a mind and I can think and even though I’m just an ANT right now I’m an ant worth caring about to myself. I want to hurt myself but I want to love myself. Why can’t we come to terms? I just want to both love and hurt myself, but imagine, we instead, could just choose one? But THEN, BAM! IT’S SO DIFFICULT TO HAVE BOTH OF THOSE IDEOLOGIES FOR SOME REASON.
You know, it took a long time to make it out of this weird “hell” where I can’t even fucking articulate the word “ideology” for some reason. I am upset with myself not being able to choose love or hurt, I just want peace, but it seems like I have to deal with some TURBULENCE, HUH?
And NO, I DON’T WANT TURBULENCE. I’ve had enough. I’ve been through ENOUGH fucking pain. Get me the fuck out of here NOW. I WANT MY JAIL OUT OF FREE CARD. I WANT TO LEAVE NOW. I WANT TO ESCAPE NOW. I WANT TO BE HAPPY NOW.
But HELL NO, that isn’t happening.
Oh, by the way, there is no God. Keep coping until the end. We’re all stuck in Hell called Earth and The Universe until we die. I have some time left until I die, I guess. I wish it would come sooner rather… -> BACK AT IT AGAIN. I WANT TO DIE, BUT NO, I WANT TO LIVE.
CAN’T YOU SEE THE DUALISTIC PARTS OF MYSELF? I WANT TO DIE AND LIVE. CHOOSE ONE. CAN’T SOMEBODY CHOOSE ONE FOR ME???
Nope.
I hate myself, my parents, and the world I’ve been born into. I’m thinking I’ll destroy myself in safe routes rather than making a world worth living for myself.
I don’t want to write anymore. I want to get to SOME CORE OF SOMETHING. I CAN’T DO IT. I CAN’T GET TO THE CORE OF THE CORE. IT’S PISSING ME THE FUCK OFF. I’M SO SICK. I FEEL SICK. I HATE LIVING. WHAT’S THERE TO LOVE ABOUT LIVING?
OKAY THEN, FINE THEN KID, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. FUCKING DO SOMETHING. STOP SCREAMING AND JUST FUCKING DO SOMETHING. YOU SIT THERE ALL DAY ON YOUR ASS HOPING FOR SOMETHING.
YOU KNOW, I THINK THAT’S WHY I DON’T LIKE [X]. HE JUST SITS ON HIS ASS HOPING THINGS WILL COME TO HIM IN HIS SELF REALM. NO, YOU HAVE TO GO OUTSIDE AND TALK TO PEOPLE, AND CREATE RELATIONSHIPS WITH PEOPLE.
I WISH I WERE BORN INTO A BETTER PLACE WHERE I COULD GO OUTSIDE AND FORM RELATIONSHIPS WIH PEOPLE. UNFORTUNATELY FOR ME I WAS UNABLE TO DO THIS FROM AGES 0-19.
I WISH I COULD AT LEAST TAKE THIS PAIN AND SUFFERING AND FUCKING PUT IT TOWARDS SOMETHING RATHER THAN JUST SPEWING IT ALL OVER THE PLACE. I WISH I COULD DIRECT SOME OF THIS ENERGY TOWARDS SOMETHING THAT MATTERS.
I want a relationship. I want to be in love with someone. I’m so alone. I want to have sex with someone. I want to kiss someone. I want to hug someone. I want to embrace someone. I deserve this. I’m allowed to have this. I need to make this a reality. I’m in so much pain because I don’t let myself have these things.
Fine. If you’re going to make me suffer, so be it, but if you’re going to take this route, please continue what you’ve already been doing, just put some more focus into:
1. Creating more wealth.
2. Creating more (SOMETHING, HAHA, WRITE? PLEASE WRITE SOME MORE. YOUR WRITING MATTERS. IT’S INTERESTING. THE ONLY WAY YOUR WRITING WILL BECOME MORE COMPREHENSIBLE AND DIGESTIBLE IS IF YOU CHURN THROUGH THEM YOURSELF AND MAKE THEM GOOD)
3. You should play more guitar. You’ve been avoiding it. Work towards it. Work towards something.
4. Go outside. Fucking go outside. Have a pizza party with [Y], what’s so crazy about that?
Wow, I’ve been raised by the Internet. That is something truly disgusting and the most defiling of all.
(Hey, by the way, I want you to know this, but I’ve been thinking about my mother or father banging down my door to yell at me. It’s annoying me. Please stop. I don’t want to think about these things. It’s paining me. To know my parents know I’m like this, hurts, a lot.)
I don’t think I could handle them knowing I’m this disgusting creature. It’s sort of their fault, but the randomness of the universe also did its part.
I keep trying to assess the situation from two different views:
1. Small -> Within a small scope. (i.e. Family)
2. Big -> A big scope (i.e. Universe)
Yes, I keep thinking about how I want a partner. Fuck it. Even worse. I want ruin myself. It’s awful, it’s disgusting, and the more I think about it, the more it disgusts me. I know it’s so close. I know I could do it at any time. I thought I was supposed to be beautiful, not revolting? Yet, I think I keep feeling repulsion.
My mind was not in the right space. I don’t want to be in pain anymore.
I have such high standards. I keep thinking about how much I want a partner. How badly I want that. I’ve fallen in love already. I’m in love but it can’t happen. Whatever. I just wanted to love, but I can’t have it. I’m not allowed to have it.
But what about me? I want to feel THAT FUCKING LOVE TOO. I don’t get that with anyone. I HAVE FELT LOVE TWICE IN MY LIFE. BOTH TIMES WERE NOT ALLOWED TO HAPPEN. SHOULD I JUST KILL MYSELF? IS THIS FATE? I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I MUST GO THROUGH THIS HELL. WHY CAN’T I GET OUT? PLEASE LET ME OUT. I WANT TO GET OUT. I WANT TO BE SAVED. THERE IS NO ONE TO SAVE ME. I WISH SOMEONE WOULD FUCKING SAVE ME. THEY WILL NEVER COME.
HEY VEKINUMA. YOU’RE NOT 14 YEARS OLD ANYMORE. YOU CAN’T JUST CALL FOR SOMEONE TO COME AND SAVE YOU, YOU FREAK. YOU HAVE TO GROW THE FUCK UP AND HANDLE THINGS YOURSELF. IF YOU CAN’T DO THAT, JUST EAT THC AND SLAM YOUR ASSHOLE ON SILICIONE LIKE A GOOD COOMER. I DON’T CARE, THAT SOUNDS PEACEFUL, DOESN’T IT? FINE THEN, GO AHEAD. I WON’T STOP YOU, BUT YOU SHOULD BE EMBARRASSED. YOU HIDE THESE THINGS FROM EVERYONE. WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU FACED SOMEONE WHO KNEW WHAT YOU WERE? YEAH, EXACTLY, NEVER HAPPENED, NEVER WILL, WHO IS SURPRISED, EH?
So, Vekinuma, if you want to run and hide and whatever, you do you, but please keep in mind:
1. I hate you.
2. I want to kill you.
3. I will rape your mind.
We could be on the same path. We could find our own sorts of love, but in the end, you choose. You have all the ability to choose. That’s fine, I think that’s okay. Yeah, I think it’s truly okay. Yes, you can be at peace with this. Yes, you can be this way, yes, it doesn’t hurt anyone.
I am thinking about the layers of judgement I have to suffer through every waking moment of living. This is a huge strain on me. No wonder I’m in such pain, I’m always worried about judgement in one way or another. I want you to care less about judgement. Please stop caring how other people view you. It doesn’t matter, only YOU matter to YOU.
…
Hey.
I have no one else to talk to, sorry. We can talk about things? Right, again? Again and again. Yes, I keep looking towards myself to create another layer of self for ME to play with because I couldn’t find someone IN THE REAL WORLD FOR ME TO PUT A PART OF ME INTO THEM.
I HAVE ME THAT NEEDS TO GO INTO SOMEONE ELSE. NO ONE WANTS IT. IT HURTS. THIS PAIN HURTS SO MUCH I JUST DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH MORE I CAN TAKE.
I DON’T want to suffer anymore. We both know that. I just want peace. We all want peace. We all want to feel better.
BETTER IN MY MIND IS ESCAPING REALITY. I WANT TO MINIMIZE HOW MUCH TIME I’M KEEPING THESE EYES OPEN. I WANT TO HIDE AWAY. I DON’T WANT TO FACE IT ALL. I JUST WANT TO RUN AND HIDE. I WISH MY PARENTS LOVED ME. I WISH I SAW THEM AS PROTECTORS. WHO ARE MY PROTECTORS? MYSELF? YES, IT COMES BACK TO PROTECTORS.
My parents will have and never have protected me. That’s their whole existence, and they’ve failed, and every continuing moment, they’re still doing that.
I want to be protected. I want someone to protect me so badly. I want someone to take care of me when I’m like this, when I’m in this pain. I want someone to care about me, I want someone to care about me and love me. I want to love them.
Hey.
You play the same games and expect different answers, I guess.
Well, so be it. Call and here I am.
I want to be protected. I wish someone could protect me. What’s wrong with wanting this?
OH YEAH. HAHAHAHHAHAHAH I JUST FUCKING FIGURED IT OUT. I KNOW WHY I CAN’T HAVE THIS. IT’S BECAUSE I’M A MAN. I WAS BORN WITH A PENIS AND TESTICLES AND THEREFORE I CAN’T HAVE THIS.
ISN’T THAT FUCKING INSANE? ISN’T THAT THE MOST INSANE SHIT YOU’VE SEEN IN YOUR ENTIRE LIFE?
I CAN’T BE PROTECTED AND LOVED THE SAME AS A WOMAN. IT’S FINE. DEAL WITH IT. I DON’T KNOW, BUT I’M SURE YOU’LL MAKE IT WORK. YOU WILL BECOME THAT WEIRD AND DISFIGURED MONSTER THAT YOU FEAR, BUT IT’S BETTER THAN NOTHING, RIGHT?
Let’s keep this in mind, the true beauty of me, I love myself, but I can’t get it out to flesh and bone. This love cannot be exerted into my own flesh and bone. What happens instead? You get hate. A lot of hate. There’s so much fucking hate to go around. I could give out so much hate to get everyone to kill each other a thousand times over.
Why can’t I find someone stronger than me? It’s so difficult to--FUCK. THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT. OKAY. I DON’T WANT SOMEONE—YES, I DO.
I want someone who is stronger than me to bring ME up to their level. WHAT THE FUCK. THERE YOU GO AGAIN, 14-YEAR-OLD VEKINUMA. IT DISGUSTS ME.
I do want someone stronger than me to protect me as I grow and nurture myself. I have no role models other than myself. That’s all I have. Myself. It’s sad, but I have to hold on, because it all could go away very quickly.
I want a protector who can think. That would be beautiful. I need it so bad. That’s what I want so bad. Why can’t I get that? I keep thinking about all the ways I could get this. What can I do?
MY BRAIN GOES BACK TO SEX. YES, IT’S CRAZY RIGHT, BUT IT MAKES SENSE IN A SENSE…
If I want to find a protector I could:
a. Open up my legs.
b. Open up my mind.
Which one do you think will capture the attention of people first?
Well, “a,” obviously, but it’s weird that I think opening up my legs will get me the qualities: STRONG and THINKER, both at the same time. That won’t happen. What will happen is a bunch of little insects will enter me, through and through, defile me, and I’ll be left with nothing. So, my best bet is to just hold onto my mind and continue “THINKING” because that’s what is somehow going to save me?
I keep coming back to how disgusting I am. You know what. Fuck it. Metamorphize these disgusting and beautiful parts together.
Yes, I can have both at the same time. Yep, fine, be weird and overtly sexual, but know purely what you intend to get out of it.
Fine, you can do other drugs or whatever, if it makes you function, I don’t see the problem. The only reason I had such a big problem with “weed” was that it was linked with my [Z]-Weed-Trauma. It’s fine. Weed is fine. I’m allowed to have it. I’ve blocked something out that probably could have helped me long ago. So be it. Fine.
Fine, have those things. It’s fine. It’s all just fine.
YES. THAT’S RIGHT. IT’S ALL JUST FINE. YES. EXACTLY. IT’S ALL JUST FINE, NO ONE IS GOING TO HURT YOU. IT’S FINE.
Hey, if no one is going to hurt you, why do you need a protector?
Ah yes, I know why.
I fear being hurt.
I DON’T want to be hurt again.
I’ve already been hurt enough. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I want someone to protect me from the possibility of pain. I’m so scared of pain. I’m always going back to pain. Reality is pain. Reality is scary, horrifying, painful, and I hate it. It’s so fucking disgusting and I want to peel it back but nothing comes.
Hey!!!
I SEE IT CLEARLY
LOOK!
She wants to die, he wants to live.
SHE WANTS TO DIE.
HE WANTS TO LIVE.
WELL, IF THESE WANT TO COME TOGETHER. FINE. THEY CAN. BUT. IT’S GOING TO HURT.
I WANT TO FEEL THE LOVE WITHIN. I WANT TO FEEL THAT LOVE OTHERS GET WHEN THEY ARE RAISED. MY PARENTS NEVER GAVE ME THAT. WHY DON’T I FEEL THEIR LOVE? NOTHING? WHAT THE FUCK? I FEEL NOTHING FROM THEM. WHAT THE FUCK? I WANT TO FEEL SOMETHING? CAN I MAKE SOMETHING UP TO FEEL? I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING STILL. WHY CAN’T I FEEL THEIR LOVE IN ANY WAY?
WELL, AT THE VERY LEAST, THEY HAVE PROVIDED ME WITH SHELTER AND FOOD AND WATER. THEY ALSO SUPPLIED ME WITH THE INTERNET, INDEED, THAT WAS A MISTAKE.
They’ve given me so many great things but just as many horrible ones, it seems.
Things can be okay. I can make a world that is okay.
I want to hide. I can hide. I can make this world one where I hide until I’m ready work. I can make it work. It will be grueling though. Quite honestly, I don’t know if I’m going to make it, but I’ll try for as long as I can.
I want to hide. I want to hide away, I don’t want to ever be seen again. I wish I were never born.
Things would have been so much easier if I had never been born. I wouldn’t have to deal with all this pain and suffering. All the fuck they had to do was put their private parts together and somehow BOOM A KID. (AND THEY DID THIS TWICE?)
I CAN’T. DO IT. FOR MUCH LONGER.
YOU KNOW THE RULES. WE BOTH KNOW THE RULES. YOU CAN SELL ONE ROUTE ONE WAY, OR THE OTHER, HEY, IT’S FINE, NO BIG DEAL.
Just hey, back to the judgement, almost caught you! Judgement came in to JUDGE ME SOME MORE. Look, I couldn’t PICK A PATH SO THE OTHER PATH IS JUDGING ME RIGHT NOW.
Oh, I’m 51% on THIS PATH, oh, GUESS WHAT, I’M JUDGING YOU. I AM FUCKING WATCHING YOU. DON’T TAKE ANY MORE STEPS FORWARD, I SWEAR TO GOD. YOU CAN’T DO IT.
Vice vera, and now, believe or not, I’m in my coinflip of hell. One path this way, the one side yells, towards down the other path, the other half is yelling. It’s like, hey, fine, we can WALK DOWN A PATH, JUST PICK ONE.
They refuse to come together and make their own path. We MUST fit within these dumb arbitrary rules for SOME WEIRD FUCKING REASON??!? FUCK THE ARBITRARY RULES. I CAN DO THINGS ORGANICALLY. I CAN DO WHAT FEELS RIGHT. I CAN DO WHAT FEELS COMFORTABLE. I CAN MAKE MYSELF COMFORTABLE.
WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING COMFORTABLE? IT’S OKAY, IT’S FINE. IT SURE AS HELL WON’T LEAD TO CHANGE, BUT WHAT’S THERE TO CHANGE FROM?
You know, that’s the joke. You keep going down the road of “oh, I MUST CHANGE” but hey, you can do better than that. You don’t have to change fundamentally. Just change parts of yourself to make a YOU, you like.
I keep the “ME” that comes of…
I’m going to lay down.
Hey.
[Where is Everybody? – Nine Inch Nails]
That song brought me back to reality.
Look at the lyrics later. Please. I can’t focus. I’m in pain. I’m trying to heal. I’m allowed to heal. I’m allowed to be in pain. I’m allowed to be scared.
10 MILES HIGH.
TEAR IT ALL DOWN.
YES. TEAR IT ALL DOWN.
I’M SO AFRAID OF BEING HURT RIGHT NOW.
Hi.
No more “Heys.”
“Hey” is too aggressive.
I wanted to let you know that your own mind has a weird connection with online friends and being unable to talk about them to people IN REAL LIFE. WHEN I’M BETTER I’LL UNDERSTAND THIS.
BUT I’M TELLING YOU.
YES, IT’S JUST ME.
AH, IT’s just me.
[Everything below this point looked like it was typed by an eight-year-old, I have made it readable, but I’m sure it will still give off that feeling.]
Hi no need to be mean to myself
Yes your dad interrogated you about a voice chat call you had with some Brazilian guy when you were 15 and questioned you about him. Didn’t like it. Made you unhappy. I am unhappy. I am big girl now.
I shouldn’t have saw my father’s penis??? What?? Weird freak.
More penis? Why so much penis? I was having to see some nudes of some guy who my sister wanted to talk to or something a long time ago I don’t know I was like 10 but why did I have to see it who allowed that that dumb fucking idiots I hate them I hate me I love you.
When I was 8 or so or whatever I was at my grandfathers and grandmothers on my mom’s side and we were all watching a movie. Well not all of us. Grandfather. But there was uncle. Uncle also watching movie. I don’t why I was watching with him. In the movie there was a woman getting raped. Or about to. I don’t know why they let me see that. Big damage. Big time.
I’m afraid of being seen. I don’t want to be seen.