Found this emo blog of mine, written 2 years ago...

And so I fight against time... Once again, lacking the much needed virtue. At times, I think I will make it, just in time, too. And at other times, I feel as if I'm cracking down the seams, turning into nothing, embracing the nothingness. Deja vouz happening to me over and over, and it is as if I am the outside observer, watching in awe, taking in the image of myself, like some crappy animation trick. And it is as if though I'm watching the same image repeat itself multiple times, yet instead of reacting, I sort of sit back and just watch. Nothing really matters. Yet it does, it does, it does, so much in fact, that it hurts even! It's like I'm squeezing a sharp razor blade in my hand, and watching the crimson droplets of blood hit the ceramic floor, yet I don't let go. I just watch the sun play with the shades of red on the blood that drips down.

And I will be okay in the end, I know it, simply because I will be, and that is really all that matters, is it not?? Truly? I am but what I make of myself. My existence is all I need, everything else, I will create. All I need is to be. Or, if I won't be, I won't know it, so therefore, I'll once again be okay in my own perception. And my perception is the only perception I know deep in the night.

If only I could grasp it all!! I desire to know, yet in the same desire, I don't wish to ever find out, because the unknown scares me. How primitive!! I'm deeply disappointed in myself. I have expected better from myself.

I am calm. I know too much to stay empty and sad. Yet I know nothing! The paradox drives me mad. Yet even my "nothing" is too large to fit into the grid that this society has created, or pretty much any society that I have lived in. Especially this one, of course. The grid is drowned out by the universe inside me. My nothingness overflows the artificial cups. So I am aware that I will succeed in relation to the world outside of me. Whether or not I will succeed in relation to the world inside of me, however, remains unknown. And truly, who cares? Not even I... How tragic, sincerely tragic. Yet 'tis so, my friends. Sometimes, I care of course, and how incredibly moronic and childish and how monstrously selfish of me to care about my own success in relation to my own standards and desires! When there are matters in this world that require my attention that do not evolve around me. Or anything I've ever even known. My own ignorance draws tears to my eyes. I'm so incredibly simple, I could just hurt myself, if it weren't counterproductive.

And so I wait, because that would be the intelligent thing to do. I must restrain myself from ruining my own creations. What idiocy! How preposterous of me to even dare, to attempt to cut through! Ugh! Haven't I learned ANYTHING?! God! Apparently not! I'm hopeless. My own inability to do anything remotely intelligent mildly irritates me.

I know now why boys often punch walls. I also know why people break mirrors. I chose not to express myself in such a way, but I understand it. I think that if I were slightly less restrained by my own moral code and my mind, which is all of course, very relative, I think I'd do it a few years ago. Or maybe not, who knows and why would I even think of that? The moron that I am, I always waste precious time pouring my creativity and thought into subjects that don't benefit from it, and neither do they broaden my horizons in any way, or become a particular use to anyone. Wow. How unexpectedly hateful of me. I wonder why the hate? And aimed at my own self, too, that is strange in such an unusual for me degree. It isn't that I fail, it's just that I'm evolving. And it is rather positive that I see my weak points, so that I may correct them. Better to see them than not to. Ignorance is bliss only to the ignorant. Oh well. So I ramble on.... Siiiiigh.

Sorry for this crap blog. I must go now. To cure my own sickness of myself. If there is a cure for me at all. They need to just shoot me and then use the better parts of my brain to make a cyborg, like in Robocop. I'd be of more use to the society than I am now. So much potential, yet I'm doing nothing to change this world. My mind rots in the comfort of my own skull. Bleh... What a waste. How dare I?! Someday, I'm sure... Siiiiiiigh... For now, though, all I am is error. I still wanna have a thigh that opens up to reveal a sweet ass gun, though. So yeah.