Wednesday, February 25, 2015


I look around social media and everybody seems to have this great time, being successful and going places and having these amazing pictures everybody likes of themselves.
And I just sit here hating myself day in and day out and I still can't believe a meat suit gets to define everything I am and everything I do. It obliterates the hard work and the kindness and the joy I used to get from all the small things. It obliterates the small pleasures of vanity that come with clothing, the infinite delight that food can bring into one's life, it even obliterates the sun for me, because the meat suit is no longer compatible with the standards. If it ever was. It obliterates my love, for I have a constant desire to hide and not to play, not to enjoy, it obliterates me as a whole being because the vessel has come to represent everything inside, and really made it irrelevant. I have been obliterated by my aging body and it's taking over my whole life, replacing pleasure with shame, ambition with fear, love with loneliness. The more it grows, the less I am.