Monday, January 11, 2016

Mental Illness as Vanity

A lot of mental illness is vanity. We hold onto those negative words/deeds and don't listen to the cries of pain. When you do something wrong or stupid, you should feel pain and suffer. That is, if you're human.

Allah gives you a flame (not my religion, but the Qur'an has so much wisdom), and you burn.

I've made many poor choices, and I decided to ignore their meanings, thinking tomorrow would liberate me. If only I could hold onto more faith, I say!

Burn.

No one came. Nothing came.

In school, the girls all went to prom without me, and I worked to avoid shame. I should have avoided them and the pain again.

I have to work lower skilled jobs. I'm not going anywhere.

I am eternally punished for things like outbursts or expressing the fact that I'm in pain. Yes, AM, your lies are painful. Again, I stayed or apologized.

Burn.

I clung onto Putin for a time as well. They can make people immortal. They could fix my mind, but no, we have to play chicken, as usual. It's like, "yes, you're super special and will live until we pass, our race." Humans won't make it once we invent our superiors. The temptation is too great, the greed too much, and the idle will fall to their desires.

I'm happy for that. Then they'll know what it's like to be defenseless.

A note about Putin, he managed to burn me to a crisp. They didn't help anything. I wanted it though, or I would have fought harder. Miss Rose fell in love, a crime. I have to fight them for my own life.

The floor is great.

Madonna and them tried to numb me (more than once). It made it so that I couldn't write as well, which is one of my passions. I've never been great, but it's fun. They always take everything from me. When there's nothing left to take, it's off with her head.

I did stand up for myself this time, however. I'm not burning as much.

Pain is a great teacher.



I hate humans.

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