I feel incomplete.
Not in the sense of having someone with me though.
I feel like i lack functions.
Functions a normal human being would have.
I feel wrong because of it.
I feel strange.
I feel like i'm trying to imitate others because of it.
I don't know.
I read it and reread it.
I constantly read this document. Why?
It's my own creation, and i want to feel validated for doing it.
I'm sure this won't be a waste of time, as it shows what i truly feel and think.
I do not lie here.
This is my truth.
Maybe when talking, i get a little hesitant talking about certain topics.
Here i just spit it out, raw, typos and all.
No sugarcoating or censoring.
Here I won't be held back by taboos or misconceptions.
If i want people to understand me, i shouldn't hide those parts of me.
Yet i do, out of fear of rejection or disgust. What i show to others is an almost cartoonish version of me.
Not even my family knows my true self.
But this text will change it.
I may not be able to talk this out, but typing it, i feel more comfortable.
I want people to understand me, why i do things the way i do.
I'm not even typing on my own language, for crying out loud! that's how different i am.
But i want to be who i am. And i want to like it.
Does everyone goes thru that in their heads?
This internal monologue. semi-philosophical rambling. constant noise. Not one minute of peace.
Why am i so distressed by it? Why does it make me want to cry?
Why can't i just stop? Turn it off?
This distress. This constant discomfort. I can't bear it.
It's destroying me, making me a husk. Slowly draining my will to live.
Is this the price of rationality? This constant buzz of doubt and conflicting thoughts.
This was a bum deal.
Take me back. make me a simple animal again.
A dog, a cat, a fox, a bird, it doesn't matter.
I just want to live my life without doubt.
I want to know exactly what to do and how to do it.
I don't want this painful rational thoughts anymore.
rational is bad, instinct is good.
Make me a dog, loyal to its master.
Make me a cat, i'll purr when you pet me.
Make me a fox, to find a nice vixen on the forest.
Make me a bird, so i can soar the air freely.
Make me a man, and i'll suffer for the rest of my life.
The doc asked me to write a diary so i could express my feelings more.
At first i kinda didn't want to, because i'm lazy.
But now here i am, and it just broke the 22K characters mark.
I never thought i would have so much to write.
I'm not really a writer. I feel like i write in a much cruder style than most.
Also, i'm not a very creative person, so i wouldn't know what to write about.
But i guess dumping my head onto text really gets results, huh?
Would people be interested on reading this? Besides the doc, of course.
It's nothing but a mind dump. No plot, no coherence, no characters besides the author itself.
It's like a movie where there's only a guy on a stool on a blank room monologuing.
Is there a movie like that? It's probably not that good.
Am i interesting to you, reader? Do you think i should stop?
Or do i go on? I'm also interested on hearing you out, if i ever could.
What you think about this rant? What's your favorite part? Your least favorite?
Were there a part that disturbed you? Or something you could relate to?
Should i include more naugthy bits? Cause i've been holding back, i confess.
What if a book about this is made? It's probably not going to be big enough for a book sadly.
Even if i use dirty tricks such as font size and margin shenanigans, this couldn't be a whole book.
And even if it was, it probably wouldn't be popular. Or would it?
I mistook today as the day i went to the doc. It was actually tomorrow.
I don't know why but i felt really sad when i found out she was sick and i couldn't talk to her.
I felt...betrayed, even if it wasn't anyone's fault. That day i cried a lot.
It feels like the only people i can really talk to is the doc and the therapist.
And of course this text file, but that's more of a one way thing here.
The conversations i have with both are something that really make my day.
Sometimes it hurts, but it's part of the process.
If i could, i would talk to them all day long.
They feel like the only friends i have now.
And there i go, crying again. It seems that some concepts really hit me hard.
My coworker, Alisson, didn't come today. Lost his fly back home apparently.
He's cool. he's really interested in videogames, and we talk about it all the time, though he knows a lot more about recent game news.
I feel like he's the only coworker who's my friend.
He even goes to my room to check on me, see if i'm alright.
Sometimes he talks about games i don't have a clue about, but i go along with the talk because i like him.
I'm sure he does the same when i'm talking about my boring games.
A few days ago he caught me crying on my room.
I excused it as an anxiety attack, but really, it was just a depressive fit.
I could see he wanted to help me but didn't know how.
He even called other coworkers to check on me later to see if all was well.
He cares for me. What a cool guy.
Just so you all know, i'm constantly updating this thing.
So check back every so often. You may find something new.
I'm probably never finish this, so if you're interested on depressive rants of a lonely guy.
Well aren't you in for a treat.
I have therapy tomorrow. She wants to talk about sexuality, and said she would be arranging something for me.
Hoo boy. She said to not think on it much, but i've been thinking about it since then.
I don't know why. Why i feel so insecure and nervous about my own sexuality.
Maybe because i'm virgin, and never actually experienced sex, so i don't know what to expect.
Maybe because i think i'm reeeeally fucked up when concerning what i find arousing.
Because there are some things i reckon i really shouldn't be aroused by.
But alas, I am, and since it's all in my head anyway, i've come to accept as hidden pleasures of mine.
Overall, i have a lot of curiosity about an actual sex act.
I mean, i do it alone a lot, and i mean A LOT. but something about sharing this pleasure...
Something about feeling like you're able to please someone. Or maybe someone wanting to please you...
It kind of elevates it from simple masturbation. Makes it kind of special.
At least that how i look at it.
And i mean, i wouldn't even know what to do if i even got in a situation where i would have actual sex.
Do i go at it slow and build up? Do i just do it as hard as I can? How much foreplay?
I mean, it's a pie in the sky idea, since i don't think i'll get real sex anytime soon.
But the fantasies on my head don't lie. I wanna do it, and i want to do it right.
Cause sex ain't a one sided thing. You're doing it with another human being.
All i can do is hope i get it right the first time.
I've recently been going into audio porn.
I enjoy it because it leaves much to the imagination.
One of the latest i found is a 40 minute one where a guy gets dumped by his girlfriend and the girlfriend's mom has very intimate moments with him.
I don't know why, but it was one of the most enjoyable i've heard.
The mom is just so sweet and understanding and, well, sexy.
And it builds up slowly too, so i can keep going for a long time.
The page where i found it describes it as "The fantasy you never knew you had".
Can't say it's wrong. But at least that's one of my more normal fantasies.
Cause i got some...really weird audios that get my motor running too.
I went to the therapist today.
I cried when i was there. I cried when coming home.
I cried when at home. I cried when at bed.
Then i masturbated, and i was able to sleep.
When i woke up, though, i didn't feel better.
I didn't want to wake up, or go to work.
But i needed to.
I cried when going to work. And now i'm crying while at work.
What in the world is going on? What is all that sorrow?
Was it something the therapist told me? Was it something i realized myself?
I don't know.
I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!
All i know is that it's hurting me and i want it to stop.
I hate myself. I hate my body. All it does is make me cry and cry and cry and cry...
I want to die. Want to throw myself off the highest building, Life is not worth it anymore.
All life is bringing me is this endless puddle of tears.
STOP! STOP! WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?
PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I CAN'T BEAR IT IT'S DESTROYING ME EATING ME UP STOP STOP STOP
I DON'T WANNA PLAY THIS GAME ANYMORE TURN IT OFF PLEASE
I CAN'T BEAR THIS REALITY I WILL NEVER ADAPT
I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ANYMORE PLEASE MAKE IT STOP I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE
CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY CRY AAAAAAAAAAAAAA HELP ME PLEASE HELP ME
I stopped crying now.
I feel a headache though.
I'm still not feeling well.
I don't know what's happening. I feel worthless.
Not a gram of will on my body. I want to go back to bed and sleep.
Live in my dreams.
Or at least escape this nightmare.