Brains of Paradise

Howdy there. My name is John.
I'm 20 years old at the time of my editing this, and I'm really confused.
Really. Confused.
I know people have it way worse off than I do, but my brain is hardwired to not care, about everything and everyone. I'm a narcissist. I sometimes wonder if everyone is secretly this way.
I used to think I was a failure, but I was wrong. I wasn't failing, I was just slipping. The world isn't as solid as we think it is. People think rooting themselves in society and superficial shit gives them real ground to stand on, but (at the risk of sounding like an irate hipster) society isn't really all that real.
When most people look at society, they see a bustling city street, where everyone is doing their part.
When I look at society, I see a group of animals vainly clinging to scraps that they made up to make life easier.
It's ridden with holes.
I used to play a game where you were a ball, and the ground kept coming at you, so you had to move through the screen and find the holes to fall through before the ground smashed you against the top.
That's how I see my life.

It’s March 8th, 2011 And I Want to Wake Up

As of the moment I put in my medical withdrawal forms… I’m officially a dropout. A college dropout.

After last month my number of suicide attempts is at least four. I’ve become completely knowledgeable about the processes and such regarding res life and suicide watch at my school… due in part to the meddling of my mother and the unconscious meddling of my old friends at another campus.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t have happy thoughts anymore. Thoughts of death are growing on my mind like a moss on a cold stone. I’ve been having dreams about dying… I never have bad dreams. They scare me and I wake up sweating and nervous. I get a feeling of relief when I stand on train tracks, or in the middle of a crowded street.

Why am I even trying to live anymore? I don’t talk to anyone on the phone anymore except my father, and I always get the most depressing feeling that I’m disappointing him and everyone else every time I do. I usually can’t get off the phone with him without tearing up. I never really used to cry in high school. Maybe a couple of times, here and there, like when I broke up with one of my girlfriends. And even then it was only once or twice (and I dated a LOT of girls). I used to cry a lot when I was a kid and my parents would fight, or my sister would fight, and usually I’d just end up leaving to throw up in the bathroom. Now I cry all the time. Sometimes for no reason. But I guess there’s a lot to be sad about.

I spend a good majority of my time nowadays wondering what the lives would be like of the people around me if I actually did just die. I don’t go outside anymore, really. Only to get food, or to go to my psychiatrist twice a week. I don’t wake up till two or three. I don’t get dressed or shower until 6 usually. I used to be scared of flying in planes because I was afraid they would crash, but now I just wonder if it’s better off that way. Sometimes when I’m driving I just wonder if I could just drive onto the other side of the road, or into a pole or a lake or something. I wonder what it would be like to hang myself or something like that. I’m afraid of the pain, because I don’t know what happens after death. What if we just live over the last couple minutes of our lives? I wouldn’t want to live through something terrible like that over and over again. What if we just feel the last nerve pulse we received on repeat until our brains decay appropriately?

I find I listen to sad, melodramatic music more often. I love Fall Out Boy. I love My Chemical Romance. I hate to say this, because Tom Delongue makes me want to vomit and shit at the same time, but I actually started listening to Blink 182. The Beatles, whom I have always loved, have great sad music. I’ve always found Coldplay to be good at times, but some of their stuff fits just about perfectly. Stuff by Copeland, Eel, and the Kooks are helping.

I went in and out of a happy relationship with a girl I met over the summer, who also happens to be one of my best friend’s… well… best friend. So I’m due for a lot of hate, and a lot of jealousy in the near and distant future. I probably ruined her life too.

I’ve been hanging around with my ex girlfriend… not the one from above but one from a couple years ago, and I know it makes her happy, but I’m moving back to California, and she isn’t, and after that debacle that happened above, no more long distance. Ever.

I find that every time I wake up I’m reminded of my ex girlfriend Marina (Puma). They’re never good thoughts. I miss her a lot. My life was happy, wholesome, drug free, and successful when I had her. I’m not really sure which part I miss, but I have a small hint. I loved her so much, I didn’t know what I had. Now she has a boyfriend, and goes to school in northern California. At least I was able to stand my shitty life when I was dating Claire, now I have nothing. Back in high school I had friends, I had tons of stuff to do, a car, good grades, a college plan, a career, a cute and loving girlfriend, and none of these suicidal thoughts. Now all I can think about is how much I would love it if I didn’t wake up tomorrow. Not once, not never.

Whenever I talk to the friends I had in high school, they always reassure me and tell me they’re there for me. My parents’ friends do too. But I don’t need my parents’ friends. I don’t need the friends that live so far away. It isn’t the same. God damn it, I sit at home 24/7 because I have no friends. You can’t put two reasons into that situation. Having a friend in another state who you have to text, who you have to call, who you have to talk to… for as little as they have time for… well that’s like having a doctor in another state.

I get left behind a lot when the “friends” I have here go out to party, at least six times, I’ve counted. I can kinda get why. I guess that’s most of why I’m leaving. I hate everyone here. If I feel this alone, why don’t I just leave and go live off in the desert or something? I know both my parents tell me they love me, and are here for me, just like everyone else in my life, as limited as those people are. I don’t believe them. I can’t. People tell me things are gonna get easier, that they’ll get better, but I can’t believe them. I’ve been hearing that for my whole life. Ever since I was a suicidal kid in seventh grade.

I’m tired of being sad. I don’t think people get it. It’s not like I’m just sad for a bit, and then I get over it and move on. I’m sad all the time. Sometimes I forget about it so I can try and make it look like I’m not, but it gets really hard after you do that for seven or eight years. I just don’t want to feel sad anymore. I mean, I don’t know ANYTHING that makes me happy anymore. Nothing. I make music, but I know no one will ever listen to it. I write, but I know no one will ever read it. I sing, but I know no one will ever hear it. I play video games, because I know at the end that something will at least turn out okay. I’m jealous of them. I just wish I could just die, and not have these feelings anymore.

I wish I could just wake up and have it be sixth grade again, and I would do everything different and change. I wish I could grow up and learn not to lie through school, not to rely on my wit to get me out of bad situations, learn a work ethic. I wish I could wake up and it would be a bad dream, and I would have learned a lesson, and then everything would be fucking peaches and roses and vanilla, even though I’m allergic to peaches. I guess Tom Delongue (Ugh) put it well, “I would wish upon a star, but that star, it doesn’t shine”. Well that’s goddamn fucking right. I don’t have hope anymore. I have what’s left of my mother’s optimism, which tells me I should stick around and hopefully one day I’ll do something amazing and change the world in a huge way, because otherwise I have no reason why I shouldn’t just take some 12 gauge aspirin and go to bed.

I don’t care for people. I’m a narcissist. I have no empathy. I could never give a shit if I died and everyone was sad. They’d get over it. People will tell me they won’t, but they will. I know I don’t touch anyone’s life that closely, except maybe my parents. And my parents have my successful fucking sister. My best friend would probably take it hard, but it isn’t his fault, so I mean none of these people should feel bad. Most of the time, I honestly feel like dying is the best thing for me, and they just don’t get it. It’s selfish of them to keep me as sad as I am but alive if it’s only because they know they’d be sad if I were dead. I don’t understand it. I don’t want to be sad anymore.

I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to be sad anymore. I don’t want to be fucking sad anymore. I just want to wake up. I just want to wake up, and have it be another time. Maybe it would be the middle of January and I still haven’t decided where to go to college, and I choose a small private college instead, and I don’t smoke instead, and I attend class instead, and I don’t make bad decisions at every fucking opportunity I can.

Half the time I cry when I’m sad isn’t because I’m pissed it is this way, I mean most of the time it is, but sometimes it’s a mixture of the fact that I can’t bring myself to die, and the fact that no one will let me.