They say a diary/journal is a great way to understand your thoughts and let out feelings of distress, anger, fear, love, anything that can't be expressed publicly. They say it's healing.. I somehow doubt that part. Yet here I am typing out a first post on an online diary cleverly named a blog. I wont refer to this as such a place, the word blog sounds too new-age and mindless. No this will be the inner workings of my mind, a journal of my mind's eye for me to have somewhere I belong.
I will spare you the details of who I am, as far as I'm concerned you already know who I am. That's what a brain is for right? Knowing everything that this existence has taught you and lead you to believe. Maybe one day I will understand why I'm so broken. Then again maybe I'm not supposed to find out why and I'm destined to suffer the life of a catalyst.
I'm sure you understand what I mean. Does it not make sense? I'm here for the purpose to assist others, help them succeed and feel better. I am a catalyst for other's to feed off what remains of my self worth. I sometimes wonder when the day will come when I meet someone like me. Someone who's brain is split from their body or used up to the point that all they feel is obligation. I'm like a catholic going to confession every time I speak to a psychiatrist. Explain myself then go do my hail Mary's to get better and never reach a true solace. It's almost like crying wolf when I try to say I have a problem - if someone does listen they don't believe me or have nothing to say about it.
It must be nice to be a regular Joe. I see them daily going about their lives being part of something even if it is a vicious cycle forming a system of injustice. At least these people can tune into it and have the ambition to strive. Humans are curious and astounding creatures. I really wish I could join them, learn what it's like to live. But who am I kidding we both know I tried that many times before. It just seems as though my place is in the shadows.. watching them and learning their habits.
This curse I bare is one of mystery. Perhaps through these pages in my mind the cure may be found to fix this affliction...
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