ADDICTED TO THE PUNISHMENT

Friday, December 28, 2007


1:38 AM - Addicted To The Punishment
Current mood: annoyed

I don't know what it is that keeps my mind clinging to bits of the past. I don't know why I am unable to exorcise the demons that haunt me completely. There's things I've gotten past that I never thought I would, obstacles I've overcome that I once, not so long ago, thought insurmountable. Yet there's those sparse and sporradic things that I can't seem to shake no matter how hard I try. Why is it I find myself seeking out information on those who have done the most irreparable damage to my soul? So many things I don't understand. I found myself, not so long ago, quite certain I was falling for a man with perhaps the thickest, tallest and most impenitrable emotional walls I have yet encountered. Why would I open myself to such a person? I make no sense even to myself, perhaps especially to myself, sometimes. I've heard the phrase 'glutton for punishment' but, damn. I know that road far too well. What is it that brings me back to that type of person? There's no logic to it, really. Perhaps knowing romance and chivalry are dead in every way but theory makes me go to the opposite extreme? Who fucking knows. People are such simple creatures to handle, truly, until your own emotions become involved, then you're fucked. I've come to understand my childhood fascination with wolves. Wolves are far more loyal, not to mention civilized, than humans, they mate for life and don't insist upon torturing one another. People are often surprised when I say I could kill a human before an animal. Animals are free from sin, free from that demented illness humans mistake for intelligence in their own kind. Truly, we're a sick and twisted species. For so long we've considered ourselves superior that we've come to see our own species as without fault. Personally, I wouldn't trust an individual who thought himself without fault, thus I have a hard time of trusting an individual species that thinks such of itself. I've killed two animals in my life larger than an insect, a bird and a cat, and both were in great amounts of pain and incapable of survival, or even voluntary movement. Perhaps they weren't feeling pain anymore, I suppose I can't truly be sure. The cat, a long-haired tabby, had been hit by a vehicle and was seizing by the side of the road, with multiple obvious and severe injuries. The bird was a small thing, a chickadee, and had fallen from it's nest or some other height, and was twitching a bit, and it's eyes were open and moving about, but it wasn't clear how much of that was voluntary. It's a frightening feeling, taking a life. It's a disturbing sense of power, even done for the right reasons. Mercy is one of those few reasons for killing the mind can come to terms with, at least partially, I think. How did I get this far off the original subject? Well, a rant is a rant. Beauty is a fucked up concept, isn't it? It's so individual and personal, yet we, as humans, try to commercialize it. Every human being has a different view on what is attractive or beautiful, and yet we have to have this mainstream definition of it. Why? So we can harrass others over their concept? What I find attractive, even my closest friends may very well disagree with. Why do we need to conform so much to the mainstream? Why are men that like women with more curves treated so poorly? Why are women who like toothpick skinny or shorter men looked down upon? People are fucked up creatures!!