#and i keep leeching on to it because having just one connection...would hypothetically fix me. but deep down i know it won't. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vengeancect · 5 years

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i just want to be free of internet people. even if what i see of them is a degenerate skeletal projection of the real person, just that is enough to completely override everything i have in terms of memories or identity, i feel washed away and pointless, every person makes a deceptively large dent on me and i replay it in my mind eternally even after almost a decade’s passed. there’s nothing in me to protect myself from this. sometimes when someone sends me funny things i feel like i want to die because just that alone exhibits such a level of existential privilege and stability from their part that i don’t even know why they’re talking to me. is it like seeing an exotic crazed animal? it feels like they can just come and go as they please and never think about me and when they do it’s some rose-colored bullshit. i guess that’s what happens when you have actual things to do aside from just obsessing about someone until they’re like a splinter in your brain. i see everyone in everything. i imagine everyone’s reaction to everything and judge whether or not the imagined reaction is wrong or accurate and never find an answer but never stop doing it either. and this didn’t change even when i took walks or went to the gym or got on the bus to do things. in fact it only made it fucking worse because all of this is now inextricably tied with the people that made 2017 a particularly grotesque year for me. i’m afraid that even if i die all these projections of people will be manifested and i won’t be free of them forever. the real hopeless part is that it won’t change. the memories won’t just go away no matter what happens. i could always look at them differently (cheat) but that doesn’t change what a massive unbearable awkward asshole i’ve been. how everyone quietly and rightfully decided i was helpless and childish and would only drag them down with me. how i managed to cause this much bullshit within the controlled anything-goes environment of internet acquaintances. i don’t have a self. i don’t have anything. i don’t know if i let myself have anything (i’d like to just not have it instead of having some input in the matter). i don’t have any deep secrets i’ve been entrusted with or heartfelt moments and confessions. what i have is just other people’s trash churning inside me. the leftover residue of ACTUAL conversations they held with other ACTUAL people. everything they talked to me about is now surely obsolete. they’ve moved onto something better, more adult and newer while the outdated, super-immature-by-comparison sludge sticks to me like tar.

it’s kinda fucking pathetic to still remember things while they’ve surely forgotten. i guess their brain knows what to keep. last time i talked to him it was like verbally assaulting some poor weak man. he didn’t remember shit! imagine that. imagine just fucking forgetting in general. it’s just so obvious. they’re all working on themselves or finding what they’ve been missing, and i’m an asshole from bringing up anything their now non-canon worse selves did or said. i am element that was introduced into people’s lives for fun. i doubt anything else is possible within the framework of an internet relationship. i mean seriously, no one in real life would do that shit. they would all “know” after one single look. people who once talked with me still read these posts because they now know it’s a safe distance. it’s more comfortable. better to watch.

if i ever got into college ALL i would think about is how internet people i’ve never met from 10 years ago experienced college. how old everyone around me is. all the people i’ve seen that fit those descriptions on the internet. everyone’s bad memories or trauma, real or fake, still inside me. still being perverted by me over and over again. real life people would stop registering to me. 90% of my brainpower would go into thinking about killing myself like i already do. same goes for “work” or a sham relationship or church guitar lessons or whatever else my asshole enabler family comes up with. i would think about his fake or real time as a college teacher, all the students he had sex with. i would think about all the people that have sex at college in general. and then i would run it through a few filters, like “oh this is just disgusting and awful”, or “these people are having important and life-changing experiences”, and no matter how i choose to process this neurosis i just end up exponentially more suicidal. trying to figure out where every class is, walking nervously to them sandwiched between inevitable thoughts of porn/gore and the actual awareness of how physically grotesque and uncomfortable i look. if i get a “friend” in real life (as in they end up considering me one), i’ll have to interact with them knowing i had a near perfect fantasy scenario for an online friendship come true and i entirely ruined it then rode it’s corpse for months. if THAT managed to be a massive failure, how disastrous is this one going to be? if i ever got a job i would think that A: i am going to be awful at it, no one will deal with any of my bullshit, i will crumble under the pressure and B: the fact i got the job at all (probably because of family connections) is just fucking pathetic and spits in the face of every internet person i see actually struggling to get opportunities and do what they want (they actually WANT to do things!). if i ever got into a relationship in real life i would spend most of it distant and terrified and sickened at the idea of tricking the person into thinking i’m normal and basically ruining their life with empty promises. if i went to a psychiatrist i would be angry at that alone because it seems like such an internet person thing to do. i would accept going there, obviously, because i’m a stupid parasite conditioned to accept everything, and i would regret it immediately. there is an unspoken agreement that by coming here i recognize that there IS a problem and it can be “fixed”, which is just nonsense. i am only interested in escaping this pig existence. nothing else. psychiatrists are for internet people who have real problems, and are real people and not some fat black hole leech. this concept sounds fucking awful to me. i fully expect my family to continue enabling me and giving me things other people fought and suffered to acquire, looking at me like “isn’t that great?!” and i’m just completely stone faced thinking about how much more indebted i am to them now. but they’d ask and i’d nod and say “yes of course this is great”. always considering the fact i may eventually just end up back here for the rest of my life anyway

here’s a cool hypothetical to top this off. imagine if someone tells me about their really bad awful family. this makes me feel bad for them and further ruins my view of my own family, to the point where every time i talk with a family member i just feel simultaneously disgusted and privileged and disconnected. their kindness towards me makes me want to kill myself. MEANWHILE, the actual person that said this to me probably still has loved ones or just people whom they enjoying being with and are genuinely fond of, while i don’t, and never will. this makes me feel upset even though it shouldn’t. see the irony? it’s funny

i would like to leave

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