
I don’t like this.. I don’t like feeling this way. Nothing makes any sense, and I feel once more that there is no point to anything that I am doing. I genuinely pray I will be okay, because I cannot be in this much longer, it will kill me.

Some part of me believes that the good days are only a facade of my own unconscious construction, made to device a good feeling about myself. Like a coping mechanism created by the body as an attempt to protect itself from the host.

I am spoon fed ideas of grandeur either by myself, my family or by my close friends. The thing is that I don’t buy it, even when it comes from myself. I don’t buy it. I am telling myself I am going to do well, and that I will do fine with studies, career and ultimately love. But how can I? How can I, filled with self hatred, self loathing and negative thoughts, feel anything but despise against myself? I cannot. Everything else is a facade. A facade to myself and to those around me. Like a recurring theatrical piece that never ceases to amaze. 

There are countless of regrets in my life, and that’s the sad part, when the regrets outweigh the good things, even to the point that they too are tainted. Tainted by me. By the fact that the good or even great memories would have been even greater had I not been in them. It sounds like it isn’t true and that this is some kind of thought of my own creation, but even logically it is true. All evidence suggests it. Hell exists, and I know it does, because I am living in it. This is hell, and I have nobody to blame except for myself.

When the good things in life are outweighed by the bad, the bad things need to be vanquished, or else it would not be a life worth living. As true as it is for emotions, as it is for man. When you are the undisputedly bad thing in life, there is only one solution. The thing has to be vanquished and erased from reality. 
There will surely be shock and sadness at first, but ultimately only the good things will remain. Those bad things will be erased over time, and replaced only by the idea of me. The good and beautiful ideas and memories that people conjured and cultivated of me will live on. The bad memories and ideas will die, the same way I will die.

Undisputedly bad I claimed, but did not yet reveal. I suppose it is poetic to think of the following just like a mathematical proof.

Every single person I have ever loved wholeheartedly and truly has ultimately stopped loving me. That is not an over exaggeration. That is the cold hard truth.
The details of which are not important, but the essence of it is; I am not worthy of being loved. Typing this does not bring me pain, because it is simple and pure - it is just the truth. Why I was born this way I do not know, and why I even needed to be of existence I do not know either. Maybe as a cosmic joke, to see if someone so truly ugly and horrendous could ever bring anything of satisfactory significance to the world. 
I do not know why, but what I do know is that I don’t blame my previous partners for ceasing to love me - it was simply inevitable. I am no victim - they are. They were victims of me, with their pure hearts just trying to love someone that is not meant to be loved. And try they did. Some longer than others, but eventually there was no try in them left, and so events ran their course, just as they were supposed to.

My curse is that I love with all my heart and soul, but I am not on this earth to be loved. I have never been able to stop myself, no matter how far things have gone. I have not only loved them, but I have loved their friends and their families too, and I have always grown too attached and too absorbed by the love I have for them, and for each inescapable loss, piece by piece of me has died. Now only an empty vessel remains. The purge is all but complete, only the vessel must die… But it takes courage. Courage to do what has to be done for the better of the people around me and the world.