If I Die, I Fuck it I Wanna Go To Hell

I feel myself day by day becoming angrier, more aggressive, more volatile ...

I have bouts of uncontrollable rage that stem from the most sime things that people do. It's something that I am not proud of. It's something that consumes me, it's as if I've awoken in another reality, another existence. Where I know that if it were not for my practiced politeness I would be the very image of what American society paints black men. 

Those animalistic, unstable traits I possess are probably not something unique to me. I understand that others deal with anger issues and emotional scars that they cannot mend. 

I hate that I'm like this. That I have this malignant shroud that I cast over everything and everyone around me. 

All of the smallest things trigger me ... I feel childish for this behavior. I feel ashamed of the way that my mind responds to things my body has no toxic reaction to. 

I hate that I struggle with a duality of existence. I hate that it's a struggle for me to not push people away out of my anger-fueled flips. 

People just say "oh get over it" and it's not that simple. It's never been that simple; it never will be ... 

Frustration

I honestly cannot deal with people who micro-manage. People who do all of these things, that feel a compulsory need to belong, or to contain. 

I cannot stand when I am made to feel as if I am something that I am not. 

It's been a long four years. Four years of growth, four years of repetitive pain, of recycled hurt that have turned into strengthened pillars of me as a person. 

I get blamed for a lot in life; I get accused of plenty. The amount of times where I have been in the wrong are written all over me like an almanac. And I cannot truly speak to my shortcomings or my triumphs because I simply haven't had enough to be able to truly say whether I'm a good or bad person. 

All I know is that progress is the concept; however, I've struggled with facilitating that. Every bright day is followed by the darkest moon for me. It's very abrupt and sharp when my mind and emotions flip. It's not a warning, an alarm. Just out of nowhere my entire psyche is thrown into this internal tornado and I come out of it in a state mentally that I don't truly have the words to describe. 

I just wish I wasn't like this. So detached, so irrationally angry and aloof. I wish I had true control over this battle I fight everyday, over my urges, my reactions and my behaviors. 

It seems like a farce to blame it on one thing. But this is a more powerful entity than almost anyone could ever endure. But somehow, someway I've been allowed to survive this long. 

Neon Lights

I struggle everyday with the burdens of my past and of my present. I sometimes feel that there is no escape. If I could paint for the world, a mosaic that could accurately depict and capture the goings on in my life I would. I don't want to have these barriers and constant uphill battles to feel normal. To feel like myself. 

For the life of me, I don't know what or why my regression and need for privacy and to be left alone supersedes the things I want in life. I have no way of accurately showing the pit of despair and pain that my mind is trapped in. It's the deepest, darkest and most desolate of places. One that most can never come close to trying to imagine themselves in. It captures me, on a daily basis and I have to fight to bring me out of it. 

Many of my thoughts, words and actions may seem damaging, counterproductive and possibly even hypocritical to those on the outside looking in. But to me, they are the very things I must do to break even and survive another day. I've lived as the hero, I've also lived as the villain. And one day, I will die as both. 

But in that meantime, between time, don't judge what you can't understand; don't look in fear of it. Embrace it. We are all, 8 billion different stories, 8 billion different paths all leading to one place: Happiness. Now I know that sounds cliche to some. However, happiness is that place where the stresses, pressures and weight of the worlds we live in cannot take hold of us. That place is different for everyone. 

My belief system is stark in comparison to many. There are a litany of things I can't mentally bring myself to feel, understand or even agree with. As there are things about me a majority will never get. But my biggest burden is the pressure fro

 The outside to be this "thing" that society says I should be, or must be. 

My pursuit of that word happiness is and never will be an easy thing; for myself or for those around me. I don't mean to be difficult to read, I don't mean to be complicated and vexing. It's simy the complex that I carry. To apologize for the way I am is to say that te way God made me was a mistake, or wrong. 

I can say I have remorse for a lot of my actions. And one day I'll have to face every single one of those actions. 

Please don't judge me, because I won't judge you ... Let this life, for how crazy and unpredictable it is ... be beautiful. 

Recycled Pain

I've spent years trying to find a solution ...

But the problem isn't salvageable. The problem is me. I can't escape this emotional labrynth that I've been running through my entire life. I've had amazing, beautiful people try to help me only to see myself hurt them, damage them and leave them wishing they'd never met me. I hurt people on a daily basis wishing I didn't. I wish I was different. That it wasn't like speaking a foreign language to be emotionally stable and in control. 

I know I may never be. I may spend my life alone and die that way due to my own hand. It's the most devastating thing in the world to feel the way I feel every single moment of every single day.