Racism, you made me hate my race.
Sexism, you made me hate being a male.
Hate what I didn’t choose and couldn’t change.
You live once, and I’m living with self hate.
Wish I could rip out my skin,
cut my genitals and cover my face
What makes you prejudge me till I die.
Life is ugly and so am I.
These feelings are too ugly to write about.
These times are too awful to keep in memory
How dare I ask you to sleep.
Close yours eyes and wait.
I will sing you a lullaby of pain
Breathless weeping, vexatious faint
Firing neurons twitching brain
Lumping scorching jugular veins
Heart throbbing accelerated rate
Blaring headache itching ache
Contracted sight speech impaired
Jealous of the shining stars in the galaxy;
A beaten comet with a tail of tears
How come no other star is lonely?
I see them all dancing with peers
No other where to say it but here. Wish the day passes by
Wish I just fall asleep. Unbreakable boring theme
Hands on cheeks; miserable sorry being
Unpleasantly clear; unworthy of belief
Kids having fun as if pleasure was real
Incessant extremes my soul should leave
Restless past, harrowing peace;
Abraded flashbacks, relentless fears
Compulsive erratic epileptic writings! Anonymous dear!
In a public site for no one to read
Faking a smile trying to heal.
Trying to dance with insides that bleed
This is not about killing the gays or their rights; it’s about criminal psychopaths who are sentenced to death.
How many times did you hear the victim’s family say “It’s kind of a closure. but not a tear; I saw his face at the sentencing, he was plain, cold; had no expressions. no guilt; evil it was like staring at the white devil. …etc ” Well, off course he had no expressions. He’s a psychopath. He’s incapable of feeling any remorse or empathy. He will actually go to his death sentence with a clear conscious thinking you all misjudged him and feeling the purest forms of utmost innocence and irreproachability.
But empathy may be gained when you exclude that person from your life. However in the same time, like an addictive status of a drug, that individual will seek power in an environment where he can use subordinates and less powerful people and not be around people who he can’t use.
This is something I knew was true all the time; I went through it personally. I dont’ feel like sharing my experiences and stories about it, but I was shocked to read its outcome this way especially the last line about that new study.
The site is also linking to the whole study in a pdf
Not conscious of life.
Numbed by its disappointments.
A weak existence, one dimensional and timed.
Talking to myself, hearing my echo. Not leaving my bed.
Aware of how I talk to distract myself and experiencing how I don’t think.
Pushing it forward, but it isn’t moving.
Sick of breathing, sick of eating; sick of being.
Am I truly stuck? I’m not panicking.
I’m not loving life, because it didn’t love back.
Sick of traveling roads, they all have no ends and leave me lost.
Sick of saying ‘I’, but I’m still saying I.
Sick of no one caring, am I allowed to complain?
Always nervous, I can’t remember the last time laughing.
Reality everyday, when can I smile.
Time is still ticking, memories and breathes passing.
Should I sing or write to make them less awful?
Suddenly, I have no emotions. I don’t know if it’s awesome. Read the rest of this page »