I hate everything about life (I probably won't write again for a long time, if ever.) · 2:37am Aug 4th, 2014
I know my stories are shit. My work is meaningless. Nobody really would care if I stopped. If they did, they'd forget about it in a week. A month.
So why do I bother? Why do I waste my precious time on a dead end worthless pile of trash that is my literary work?
Hell, why do I bother living if I'll eventually be forgotten? If I'll never make a permanent mark in the timeline? Its utterly impossible. Stone erodes, suns die, eons pass, the universe collapses in on itself. There is no point, its so obvious to see. So why is it that no one seems to but me? Am I missing something here?
Maybe they do know. Maybe they ignore the truth. That we all die. Nothing lasts forever. But why? For love? For pleasure? For the good things in life?
Well, I don't understand love. I hate my own species. I understand so much, but nothing about emotion comes to me easily. Other than anger, annoyance, and hatred, that is. I hate it.
Either everyone else lives in ignorant bliss, or ignores The Truth FOR bliss. But not me. Oh, no no no. I'm too clever for my own good. I'm too special to ignore. I have to live with this constantly pounding in my mind, or take the damn medication that erases what makes me myself. My anger is part of me. My reasoning is. I can't stand living with ignorance forced on me, it's torturous.
Bah. You don't care. You probably stopped reading a long time ago. If you didn't, you're about to leave your sob-story below in 'retaliation'. Or you're going to tell me it'll all make sense when I'm older. Or some other excuse. But it never will. I've made my sense of it, and I hate everything about it.
So why should I continue writing if it'll never mean anything? Why?
... Why...?
"Worthless pile of trash" I should slap you. You write because you enjoy it, presumably. Your work is anything but trash.
We all ignore the truth, death is inevitable, and truthfully, I don't think anyone really wants to live forever, it would destroy you to watch generations live and die. Such is the burden of immortality.
In reality, human nature boils down to one thing, reproduce. And that's just what life is about, living, finding someone to settle down with, having children, living for a while and then dying.
Ever heard of the butterfly effect? Yeah, if you weren't here today, if you died, or were never born, it could have a drastic effect on the future. Granted it's just a theory, but nevertheless.
Your writing could mean a lot to many people. If you feel that you don't want to write anymore, so be it. You're a grown up, you can make your own decisions. I wish you didn't feel like this, but I'm not going to say "It'll all make sense when you're older" because it doesn't. Not this.
If you need someone to talk to, I'm willing to try.
You're not the only one who feels that way. There are times that I've decided to give up writing, and yet I didn't because there ARE people who DO care.
I'm sorry to anyone who read this. I missed my medication that day and was riled up from some outside influences that caused me to, well, write this. I do mean everything I say here, but not all of me feels these ways. It's difficult to explain.
It doesn't help that in my mind I can't easily remember what story arc is what and where I am and how do I pace myself in the story and many things like that. It frustrates myself. I know people don't think it's trash, but part of me doesn't even want to write. Another part does want to write. Another part is ambivalent on the matter. I just need time to compose myself and maybe build up chapters instead of releasing them the moment I finish them. Maybe I'll cancel my less prominent work, like I did to The Story of Ian Cameron. Or put them on hiatus. In any case, I will continue writing, just not for a while.
And to all of you who understand my thoughts (however disjointed they are) and either encouraged or agreed with me, Thank you.
It means a lot to know how people feel about these matters, and I'm glad to know I'm not alone.