I am Nobody.

Tales of a manic millennial life. Not a satire.

[iamnobodytales]

The Truth

Everyone is ahead of me in life in every single way possible. I have felt so alone so isolated all my life. My lonely life. I’m numb to the pain now. So SO broken up inside I don’t allow myself to cry of feel sorry for myself. I’m stubborn. I don’t want to accept who I’ve have become. I want to change. But I don’t know how anymore.

I tried and worked so hard to be the person I wanted to be, it amounted to dissapoinment and nothing. No one cares, sees me, or wants me around.

I have been thinking about death, and how much of a welcome comfort it would be. I want to die. I want to KILL myself. These words I write don’t even make me cry. I’m too cold to feel. I know deep down part of me would be at peace to finally let go. To finally leave this life.

Not believing in God helps. I don’t talk to him anymore, because it doesn’t matter. Its just me now. Even more alone. No imaginary friend up in the sky watching me destroy my life. No presdestination. All I was raised to believe and force fed was a farce. In reality all I have is whats inside me. My own self. I know all about the struggle, pain.

Reasons I have given up: No work, No boyfriend, I can’t even drive, I live with my parents, my upbringing stunted me and mentally destroyed me, college I was alone the whole time with NO friends and didn’t even notice it, I’m almost 30, I was fired from my last job so coldly, not even a recommendation from my boss, I thought I had MADE it, and I was humble about it, I tried to do my best, I was unhappy though, all my love life has been online, and one night stands, and men who have cheated with me, and used me for sex, I don’t know the feeling of sex with love, and I don’t think I ever will, I’m mad at men, I’m mad at my dad, Im mad at my mom for staying with him, or marrying him at all, I’m mad at the men that have passed me over for work because of whats between my legs, I’m mad because I used the objectification to make money when I was broke, I’m getting what I deserve for it. I’m a loser. I’m a whore, slut, stupid all the horrible mean things men say about me online. I HATE my life. I want the COMFORT OF DEATH. And this scares me in a way that makes me numb, my heart doesn’t race, in fact I don’t feel anything. Just Blankness. I need help I want to be sedated, a vegetable, or die. I don’t want to feel ever again. I want to die. Either die for real, permanently, or make my mind die. Turn it off. Because I’m mentally broken. I don’t even see the few friends I have, they never motivated me like I hoped. I lost them all. Really. They don’t care, and I’m afriad of what they think of me. They must know somehow, I’m not right. My head is fucked. I need help. NO ONE OFFERS HELP.

MY FAMILY LIVES WITH ME AND DOESN’T CARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

THEY SEE ME SLEEP UNTIL 2pm, NOT DRIVE, NO JOB, NO BF, NOT GETTING LAID OBVI, NO MONEY NO FUCKING MONEY, MOOCHING, WITH A FUCKING EXPENSIVE DEGREE, I WAS FIRED FROM MY LAST JOB , 2 FUCKING YEARS AGO or MORE EVERY ONE IS AHEAD IN LIFE BUT ME..AND THEY DONT GIVE 1 SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Part of me, a small tiny part, wants help. I want to give in to the doctors and medication from my shit insurance. I want to be committed. For the rest of my life. I already am in prison, mentally, in a real one I’d feel the same. No difference. Just scratchy clothes and sheets, and shit food. Not very different. Still isolated, lonely, forgotten, passed over, ignored, left to rot. As always.

Maybe someone will read this and realize their life is not that bad, or shittier than mine and we can trade stories.

[iamnobodytales]

Absolute freedom is an illusion.

unkown

[iamnobodytales]

today.

My writing kind of saved me today. I was feeling very down with all these personal and family problems snowballing. I will write about it when I can gather up the strength to.

I didn’t know what to do today when I started to cry, I don’t cry a lot anymore. Most things make me feel numb. Things that should mess me up, having me throwing a wild fit, don’t effect me the same. 

Crying I thought how meaningless my life is, and how I gave up on so much. I am slowly suffocating my life until it extinguishes. When you give up on life it suffocates the air your dreams live off of.

When REAL life problems hit me in the face, the thought of how broke I am, how my family can barely get by, how I was sold the american dream and never reached it...I want to crawl into a deep dark hole. Huddled in a ball until I wither away slowly into dust.

I thought how if I did lose it all, how freeing it would be in a way. Nihilism is me. If my family was out in the street and I lost it all. Would I feel anything then? 

And then I came to the realization that after awhile I got used to pain, and maybe all the bad that happens to me is now a way of life. And if I did take my life wouldn’t I care? I know others would, and slowly move on. Like driving past a car accident. But, would I even care about whats to come in my life. If I don’t care about the future then whats holding me back from darkness?

I wanted to vent my frustrations, feeling lost I picked up my old journal. Tossed on the floor of my room is where I found it. I stopped writing in it years ago, and only a few pages are filled out. I read passages on it that made me cry more for that girl. But also healed that wretched little devil inside me that wants to destroy me. At least for now. 

Sometimes hearing your own pain makes you feel less alone I guess.

I posted some of my entries today and will post more soon. 

_written today_

[iamnobodytales]

Undated Journal entry 5

There is these curtains up in my dorm that my roommate has gotten. They drape around my space making me feel closed in. I feel like I’m in this hospital or tent. Either way, it feels private, too much so.

It makes me feel like I’m more alone. Having this space to share with others, feel so separate, closed, and private. I guess I’m not used to it.

Reflecting on today, I must work on shaking off this awkwardness. I am too quiet. I don’t speak out when I should. How will I meet anyone when I’m so closed in mentally?

I need to get used to writing every day no matter how tired I am. Like now I’m falling asleep. Can’t keep my eyes open. But I’m trying to fill this space on this page to the very end.

_Journal entry from college, undated, hated the blue medical curtains in my dorm that split the studio in two they were always drawn_

[iamnobodytales]

Undated Journal entry 4

Today I walked into class and familiar faces stared wide - eyed back at me. I wondered if it was the new short hair-cut, my smile (without braces), or my outfit. Well, I know it wasn’t my smile (I’m not a morning person). 

Feeling good about myself, yet still feel a bit off. Somethings not right. I wish I had a boyfriend, or just someone I could count on to make me feel good no matter what. 

It can seem a bit foolish. But the more I hear about how being in a relationship right now would be wrong, the more I want a boyfriend. I find myself observing guys I like, to see if theres is any boyfriend material at [redacted]. I dunno about that.

_Journal entry from college, undated_

[iamnobodytales]

Undated Journal entry 3

Signs - I’m seeing them right now, as I travel from Long Island to NYC. Thinking of the signs in life that foreshadow things and how truly important they are. They are relevant.  If it weren’t for the signs that flash before us in our roadways in life - How would we know whats ahead? Danger? Catastrophe? Happiness? An exit? A loop turn? A loop turn that will bring us back to where we started, or worse, have us going in circles. I guess I have ignored signs in my life before. But I’m trying not to. I must be careful. Life is too precious and fleeting now a days. 

_Journal entry from college, undated, written on the train_

[iamnobodytales]

Undated Journal entry 2

I wish I could right as fast as I can think. Write - right, its all the same. I wish I could think and speak right. Maybe things would be different for me. A better life, foil of things I never had.

Full - foil. I am my own foil sometimes. This maybe my chance to change.

_Journal entry from college, undated, full of spelling errors I kept in_

[iamnobodytales]

Undated Journal entry 1

I don’t know what this first page should be about. (Other than) maybe my goals for this book in the first place. I wish I could free-write, riff, and write book “movies” like Kerouac. I also want to write all my ideas down. No matter what the subject matter. Everything is relevant.

I absorb the people of this city a lot. Young and old, natives, out of towners. All the same. There is an air of arrogance. But in the air there is also a rich community unlike any other. I guess its what draws me to NYC. The yet to be explored and conquered territory. It also makes me wish I had more money. Money, been thinking a lot about it. Its really a world based on it here in America. It makes me cringe.

So I’ve started thinking about what I can do to get more of it. Never liked being bossed around, I like being the boss. Simple as that. This book hurts my eyes and hand right now..wish it were bigger.

_Journal entry from college, undated_

[iamnobodytales]

Volim Te

Forget about him.

Everything about him, I love. His big smile, his cerulean eyes that light up before me, how tall he is and how I have to get on my tippy toes to match him for a hug. Those cozy arms I want to be wrapped in. The way he looks from far away waiting for me, that look he has pensively scanning the room for me to arrive. I admire his profile from far away as I walk towards him. He looks so dominant yet fragile. When I'm close his accent breaks the silence and I feel warm inside. That bright smile, those eyes, his golden facial hair, the messy locks on his head. I never thought looking tired could look so sexy.

I trust you. I want you in my life forever. I wonder if you feel it too. 

Unrequited feelings are a foolish thing. I've learned that's the man to avoid. Hide your feelings or be hurt. Just the thought of him is all consuming, you dream up a life together in your mind. And he is everything you ever dreamed of. All the boxes filled in and checked off. Its not real.

I let it play out in my mind, our whole story. It reaches a big climactic ending where one of us dies of old age first, or we separate because he cheated.

In those spliced moments in between I weaved a romantic love affair to put all others to shame. We can't stand a minute apart from each other. We have sex so deep our bodies meld together as one for that brief moment of pure bliss in a tragic love affair.

 His booming voice comforts me, and I wonder what its like to be pressed against his chest feeling him talk against my cheek. His finger tips feel rough to the touch and I wonder how they would feel touching me all other my body.

I just want to hold his hand and feel the electric currents all throughout my body.

He looks at me as if to say, "I like you" and I want to escape from the moment and hide.

I miss my chance, the train leaves without me. 

Now his hugs are weak. His voice trails off when he makes conversation as if he is there, but not really in the moment. His mind is off dreaming elsewhere with his dream girl.

[iamnobodytales]

Empty space

I stare towards the little green light on my webcam, this is how I can meet their one eyed gaze. I wonder if the people on the other side have any idea of the quality of my life. And what brought me here.

I'm just a half naked piece of meat in a bra and panties. They must think I'm lacking a basic moral compass and any respect for myself.

A no self esteem rag-doll to toss around. A sex robot at their command for a few tokens a minute.

Do those viewers ponder after getting off, of the girl they just ogled at for a few minutes? If she has enough money for rent? Is she doing this for fun? Does she really cum?

It started out innocently enough. A way to make extra cash, a way to get by between jobs. A way to get off when I'm lonely, the gateway to it all.

I found empowerment in an odd place, I found myself comfortable with little explored parts of my anatomy. This can't all be that bad. Feminism, matriarchy, I'm the owner of this body. I can do what I want with it and remain unscathed. 

It became much more, a subversive degenerate porn world. Down I went with it. Consuming my dignity and mentality. I'm only good for this I thought. I don't have options anymore. I'll just keep adding to my collection of bras, panties, and sex toys. The return on investment should be worth it.

When I lost a real job I had, I thought of how they expedited me through a background check. And how the HR lady despised me so, she must have taken another look and found out what I did to make money prior. 

Damn social security numbers. Damn 1099 form. I was in the system as a adult performer for all to know it.  

When I lost that job, I went back to the little cyclops eye again. Staring at my own cam feed shown back at me. My reflection, I can barely stand to really look at myself for more than a few seconds. I watch myself going through the motions to get viewers. My head now cut off, they really just want a look at my figure, I posture just so. I'm hoping to make at least enough for my loans this month. But all those past viewers, I will never know of.

They have forgotten me already.

[iamnobodytales]

Beginning

Don't cry. Don't shed a single tear. 

Everything is your own fault. I think about how things could have been different, if I made different choices. Where my life would be at this moment. And if I would be happy.

I'm a failure. I'm a loser. I think these things about myself often.

I should go back to selling myself, I'm desperate for money and it's my only way out now.

Down the rabbit hole again?

I'm told old for that now. My body is not the same.

Where do I begin to explain how I got here? How I lost those chances at happiness. How little instances in time can really effect your whole life. The butterfly effect. The wormholes through time.