Hello tumblr. About a year ago or more, I destroyed my tumblr. I annihilated everything i had thought I liked or enjoyed, and I partly destroyed my pony, my online self. And I think I am back to start doing it again. I don't remember anymore why I destroyed it... though I know that i was so emotionally unhinged, so charged by so many things i didn't need to see here, I attacked everyone and burned away lots of things others... and me posted and talked. I even lost my original blog name. v.v I eventually picked up what was left because after all it was a record of my life, and i was still lucid enough to know I'd regret throwing all that away. I blocked a lot of friends, halfly for their own protection. Over these months I started using my tumblr again for small things, liking useful references mostly. But... I think this may ne the next beat up place. Since no one reads this for long that should be okay. ....*looks off to a side* ...ah... You know sometimes I wish I would die, often. But not like you think. I wished for many many years, since I was very small, that I would die. I never understood what that meant but what I wished would happen was that I would maybe just fade away, where people would forget about me, and I could quietly forget about me, and then nothing and no one would ever have known I was here. I'm too afraid, and too embarrassed to do anything to myself. My projected lifespan is half complete. I still live at home. I feel like a farce. But none of that stings like the thoughts I kept in a mental time capsule: -I distinctly remember being ten or so, playing Nintendo, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and I had been playing NES for a few years. Because of how school and family scheduling worked i had lots of time to myself, where I thought distinctly, "is this what life is? Video games, any time I'm alone?" I don't know why I thought that then and there. -I remember being 25 and being in the home of the very first furry friend I ever met. *sighs faintly* He is a fond, missed friend. I had been slacking all through high school and failing in college, and not moved out of home. He encouraged and lightly admonished me, and said people vary, that even his brother hadn't moved out till age 30. And damn me, I very distinctly thought, "Wow, I will definitely be out before 30, that's five years, all the time to make my career happen and make lots of money and be grown up and be ready." ....30 is now five years ago. And it stings. It stings in a way I can't ignore or get used to. My life is half over, and I really do feel like I arrived on earth.... and I wasn't meant to be here ever. And so, I just await leaving. I self-injure, but not in the way you think. I mentally self-injure. I draw and write things that beat me up, and make me cry, because somehow, doing that makes me feel... something.... that feels good, or i like. I can hide the injuries perfectly because they are never physical. I can self injure anytime, because all it takes is a thought. And... so far it is all that helps me cope, get by, get over myself. I cry, sleep very deep with no dreams or very lovely beautiful colorful happy dreams, and wake numb, and am able to continue sort of. And it sort of works. ....I figured out maybe 10 or 2 years ago, or I decided... I would die not of disease or old age, but from violence or grief. But I'll be realistic, I've always known I'll die of grief. Just chain and dry my soul until one day it stops moving. I already have lived enough regret for ten lifetimes, and cried enough to know nothing is worth living to old age, to see ever deeper grief and pain. I am stupid for thinking that but I was born pretty broken. Strangely.... I cry now, feel a lot of regret for my mother and father, for all my many friends I forgot and pushed away. To my mother: I hate you, and am sorry that I do. I hate that I was the source of so many fights and the source of so much pain with my father. You never told me for certain if I was a consensual product, or accidental or ...'intimidated' into being. I hate you because I started so many fights, knowingly picked wrong and biting you and screaming at you, instead of picking anything good. And look what I became, nothing. God, I miss you. I still remember so clearly, cuddling with you in that old armchair, and I had never felt so okay, so protected, so guaranteed free from danger, as when I was mooshed by you there. I still remember how the innocent gentle hugs felt, how your younger voice sounded. I remember mutual giggles. How I went from that, to a broken manchild who hurts himself, I will never comprehend. *wipes face* The child me misses you, and regrets making you into a screaming crying shattered monster in your old age. Oh God does it send my sins crawling up my back. I am so sorry. I am so sorry. I will never have eternity enough to say it enough. I love you and miss you. Forgive me. To my father: I hate you, and everything you left in me. And I regret hating you too. Why did you leave us when I was so young? Why dad, were you so scary? Why did you beat us? Why did you chase us in the dark? Just to disappear one day? Because of you, I grew up thinking that it was normal for no one to have a dad, and normal that everyone's dad beats them up and looks scary. It wasn't till my 20s seeing some grown furs woth their dads that it clicked, actually most dads don't whip their families, and run out, they stay pretty much until they die.... Because of you, I learned violence was an option, and yelling and aggression are tools. Because of you, I hope to never be a dad myself, because I am scared I will give in and beat my kids too. *cries* I wish you would have stayed. Maybe I could have grown and set you and mom straight as a teen. At least, I wish you would have called or sent a card, or at least child support. But most what I wish, what I wanted, was that you... you... just... would have stayed, and been a dad. I thought of you while playing Undertale, almost 30 years after you left. I wish you would have been like Asgore. I wish I would have had life experiences to compare with Asgore... even that woulda been nice. You're very likely dead now from old age. I don't even know where you are to lay a flower on your grave. I don't know where to look for you, buried or living. I might PUT you in your grave if I found you, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't mourn you. But you left. I miss you and love you. To my friends, old and current: I can remember you ones from first grade or so onward... elementary and middle school, high school even and into furry life. I made no friends in college. I guess.... maybe I should start at the beginning. Thank you for making my first years not-alone ones.You made my childhood. You were sometimes weird, sometimes bullies, often a mystery, and I guess I am sorry I didn't keep up with you. But I never valued keeping friends till I became a fur. Through elementary school sometimes I was the bully. Making fun of some kid's weight or even their disability. I was an ignorant very bad kid then who didn't understand the gravity of teasing nor making fun of others, even when he was terribly harshly bullied himself. Forgive please, a stupid idiot kid who just didn't see the connection. Onto high school, well... I have good reasons now for leaving behind those friendships, though at the time I should have kept them up. Most importanty now are my furry friendships, the only kind I have. To the people I said I loved, it is still trye, except to one or maybe two who guaranteed will not see this. To them, I am sorry but i can only love you at a distance. To everyone else, I wish I could show you how I really do love you, how you are fulfilling me, how your memories feed me when I am alone. How for some of you, your hugs, cuddletimes, and kisses even I can feel as if you were here giving them. My body actually psychosomatically manifests those touches, to say nothing of how you move my heart and spirit. But I know all that is marred every time I lash out at you, am jealous of your independence, am jealous of your career or relationships/marriage. My heart is broken, my love is broken. And thus, there is no way to prove I love you. You crazy furry people have done some miraculous things: turned me back to the world of cuddles I left not long after me and my mom in the armchair-- that alone is a miracle, and a world of innocent healing touch that so many men, people never relearn or spend their entire lives without. But you also introduced me to being more open, to accepting more traits in people, to exploring more parts of me for good or bad. You showed me that same-sex snuggling and expressions of affection are actually a long-forgotten normal, wholesome, missing part of everyone's lives. You taught me to sew, to confess, to trust, to confide, to support, to cry, to draw, to write, to dare. You showed me Anthrocon and so many other cons, where I had never felt so much like I belong. I never thought I would be crying openly at the end of my first Anthrocon on Sunday night, totally new and now a veteran of all the magic and wonder of creatures come alive, and magical places and super open people. I never knew such places existed. Don't you see friends, ever since then, I have always believed heaven will feel like that, and better. You, my furry friends, were the first people apart from my mom, that I said 'I love you' to, and it wasn't awkward or artificial. I still remember the place and time I first said I love you, to each fur I said it to. And I miss that, and I miss you. I am sorry all I am is bittersweet to you now. I should have been a better person. I should have worked harder to be a more successful stable person you wouldn't have to put up with, but I didn't. And now look at this heap of person I only half am. I am just sorry I am not more. I am sorry I don't care enough, don't care more. My energy just ran out. My only feeble hope is that you overlook my faults and see that my heart was in the right place, that I tried, and sometimes succeded. I hug and hold you all. I am sorry for who I am. I could die very happy if you used my life as an example of what not to do and who not to be. Be better than me. Be better than stating home all your life. I love you. I love you. I love you. God loves you more. Finally, to myself: *sobs silently* I'm really sorry. I am putting bandaids on the same places I am punching myself. But don't blame yourself Kurra. Your life is like a vapor, and in the end there will be nothing. Dust to dust. You are only one person in this vast universe, and ultimately your actions will never be felt. I want to apologize to myself, for not loving myself enough, not caring or having faith enough. I guess you'll have to be satisfied knowing you had the potential, the chance. And that you had a few glories. You had some good times with fambly, friends. And there were times you loved yourself. It's just sad I'll have to see myself go like this. Just so much undone. I miss me, the kid me with so many chances and love around, and potential. I am afraid of the little me I am almost done losing, afraid of what I am growing into. I don't want to grow into a bitter old man. Or worse. I would only hope two things, that I die before I become a monster, and that my death would mean something. I wish that I would die saving lives, that I would have lived to give it up in something useful, something that gives reason to my life. Failing that, I would hope that my life would serve as a warning to others, that at least my life of mistakes will keep other people from doing the same errors. I could die happy with that, with SOMETHING, but not with this life, never knowing what I lived for. *cries silently* These are all the things I carry in my mind, all my life. Things I can't let go, or bury. Stuff I never confessed before now publicly. Dear God forgive me please, because I am stupid and blind and don't want to better. Please give me a chance to redeem myself, to maybe start my lige before I die. I miss you, God. I miss my old friends and family and loves, and I would not want to die far from them. Lord, make them all Your children too, for my heaven could never be heaven without them. If I had the courage I wouldntrade spots with them. This is the one thing I ask honestly, because they deserve better than me, they deserve You. *cries silently in bed, and wishes he could hug you all here, and ask your forgiveness* I am so broken. I go from anger to remorse to sweet thoughts to self-injury to apathy to forgetting why I am feeling. I basically gave up trying to figure myself out, see? I just let my emotions fly and if one of these times I go, then I go. That's what I tell myself, though some inner part of me wants to live and make life joyous with friends and just live eternal pure joy. I am so conflicted. So... all I can do is go to work in a few hours, and live. And maybe carry all this burden again. I am so.... so very.... just... I can't even describe it! Just know, after the tears and regret and anger and remorse, there's parts of me that want to live and seek smiles and company. I know I am complicated and frustrating. I may never get fixed. But I hope, you got somethingngood or useful from me, some special memory that enriches you. If that is all I gave, I would be very fulfilled, VERY happy. I love you all. I love you God. Please don't forget me. and unless a bad accident or something happens, I plan to be here a long time. Writing this helped, heh, it did... it did. It helps to confess. Be good. I love you. ,u_u, I wish I could see you in dreams. I miss you intensely. I love you. *spends all eternity, curled up around you.*
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
dededos
