Tired

I'm so tired.

I don’t want to write about how miserable I am all the time. I could have been writing about how much I enjoyed nature while I was away from home. I’m back home now. It gets tiring, even for me, writing about the same nonsense—how sad and lonely I am—just proves that I’m a stupid loser, a loser who can’t be satisfied no matter what. I’m just a headache, a burden that somehow people claim to like.

I wanted to close this blog because of this, I wrote the html to show no trace of my posts. But I feel connected to this place now, I had to turn it back to this. I don’t want to bore anyone with my weirdness.

I’ve been having these emotional outbursts for the last few days. When I think about the future, dreaming about all these things, I can’t help but cry my eyes out because, deep down, I know I won’t get there. All I have is my thoughts, constantly thinking. I wish I could escape my mind, my own words that won’t stop hurting me.

I miss my dad. He wouldn’t talk to me about my feelings, but his presence would always distract me; we would watch sports and documentaries all day, talking about politics and anything around us. I guess he was too good for this world. I remember listening to these lyrics after the day he passed away:

"You call this justice, world?
You have given neither love nor wealth
You are the world that belongs to evil
The killer of decent people"

14 months... Time really flies by. Now it's just us left in this house; three people who don’t even try to act like a family. My brother just pushes me to do things; he just came to my room and saw me listening to music, and he’s begging me to do anything else other than listening to music, but I can’t.

I want to reach out, to be bold. I guess I’m a master at pushing people away. I want others to be around me, but I just assume that they don’t want me around them. So, I give them the space they deserve before it gets too much, in case they are too polite to tell me that I bother them.