The depression is strong in me today. Anger, self-loathing, bitterness, and frustration circle me like hungry predators. I feel like I want to leap, screaming, out of a window on the 100th floor of the Burj Dubai.
But you know what? This is good.
I like this. I’m enjoying it. Burn, motherfucker, burn. Build that holy bonfire so high the angels get their wings singed. Pile up all my fucking bullshit and anything else that gets in the way of my embracing the world and make that bitch burn.
Make sure to get that goddamned gate. You know, the one that doesn’t let anyone in no matter how sad, lonely, or cold I get? The one that keeps all the goodness and light and warm human connection from getting to my frozen twisted soul because it can’t tell the difference between melting and dying? You know, that fucking thing?
Yeah. Burn that bitch twice. Burn it like it’s plague blankets.
Oh, and toss those old tapes on the fire too. You know, the ones that have all that crazy childhood bullying recorded on them, along with every other time trying to socialize and connect with others ended in my being alienated and traumatized instead.
We don’t need those any more. Those times are long dead and those tapes do not represent my social reality at all any more. They only make me scared for no reason in situations where I am perfectly safe and I am so very over that bullshit.
So toss those goddamned things on the fire and let the fire cleanse them from my mind.
While we’re at it, flush those ancient toxins from my system too. I have been holding on to them for far too long. It’s about time I stop reflexively clinging to them as though they were something important I had to preserve. Like letting go of them would be some kind of unfathomable loss.
Like on some level, it would mean “they got away with it”.
Guess what? They already got away with it. It’s in the distant past. Yes, I was wronged by a lot of people in my fucked up childhood and I deserved much, much better. I was the victim of injustice on many levels and if I had a time machine, maybe I could make these people pay the price for their crimes.
But I don’t. So fuck it. I forgive you all. Not because you deserve it but because I am sick to death of carrying around a hot coal that burns my hand on the off chance I get to throw it at someone who hurt me.
So fuck all y’all. You can burn with the rest.
The best revenge I can get on you horrible people is to evict you from my mind and stop you from hurting me any more.
Finally, when everything else is burning and the blaze is hotter than a stellar core, I will throw myself into the blaze and be annihilated in a heartbeat,
Not just to die, but to be reborn. Phoenix from the flames. Light born of darkness. Power, glory and pride rising from the grave of weakness, cowardice, and shame.
I am done with his form, Master.
I demand another.
More after the break,
The embittered ronin
Of course, there is no Master. No Captain. No daimyo. There never has been.
Perhaps there never could have been. I don’t know.
But as part of ridding myself of my evils, I might as well vent my bitterness over the fact that I never had anyone to be an authority over me.
And I desperately needed one, even if I didn’t know it. Without anyone in that role, I was left abandoned to the whims of fate. I had nobody to guide me or protect me or tell me what I needed to know in order to make it through life without getting hurt all the time.
What’s more, I had no sense of any power beyond myself, and that’s a very bad thing for a child. I have been self-determined from far too young an an age, and while I understand my own role in that (being so stubborn and intelligent), that doesn’t change the fact that I ended up more or less raising myself.
No wonder I ended up so cowardly. How else is a kid supposed to keep himself safe in a world that has abandoned him but to fanatically minimize risk?
Well, okay, another sort of kid would have been inspired to become a rugged individualist with a “fuck you” attitude and an iron willed determination to prove to the world that he didn’t need anybody.
But I got raped.
And that taught me to withdraw from reality to protect myself, like a turtle retreating into his shell to escape a predator.
So when things got even worse, that’s what I did. I turtled up. I became the wreck I am now, a wizard with earth shaking powers but who is too weak and wounded on the inside to do anything but consume media.
Well, and produce it. Via this blog. Technically.
I can feel the empty space where authority should have been very clearly. It burns like frostbite and I can feel the cold wind whistle through it like a toothache.
I try to imagine what kind of person could have saved me. It’s not easy. They would have had to been extremely strong-willed and persistent, with enough sheer power of personality to penetrate my little bubble and convince me that they not only cared about me but were going to stick around instead of giving up on me like everyone else.
They would not have needed to be smarter than me, though that would help obviously. But the important things would be strength of personality and persistence.
If they were kind of scary, that would also help.
Whatever helps them keep my attention. Charm, wit, mortal terror… it’s all good.
They would have had to be a pretty extraordinary person.
Or my mother. My mother could have done it without a struggle. I absolutely would do whatever she asked of me and listened to everything she said.
But she never wanted me in the first place.
And on a deep level, I knew.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.