I see all these people with their big houses, nice cars, and beautiful women and I think that I really want those things. But a small part of me wonders if I really do. Part of me thinks that I would just like to look in the mirror and see someone I can respect. I am horribly and tragically flawed. Sometimes, a lot of times, it doesn't bother me as much. But tonight, as I smoke this couple inches of cancer, and drink in this agony, I hate myself. I hate everything, I hate my parents for not making me the man I want to be. I hate everything and everyone that is better than me, but more than anything, I hate myself.
This hate hurts, its not something I want to feel. Its a horrible weight, but its my cross to bear. I wear this crown of thorns, this crown that I have made of my own regret and failure. I wear it as I drag my cross in front of the people I love, and the people that for some reason love me. In this moment I suddenly hate everyone that has come and passed before me, they don't have to deal with the pain of today. They are free from the regret of yesterday. But most importantly they are above the failure of tomorrow.
These people, dead and wallowing, don't have to feel. They no longer cry and bleed. They have shed their crosses, and removed their crowns. I can only hope that I can do the same, before I end up like them. I envy them, but do not want to become them. I don't want to be hallow inside, I want to enjoy my soul for the short time that its mine.
This little angst ridden diatribe helps me heal the wounds and blisters of my mistakes. I have failed so many people in my short time here, thats what hurts the most. I think to myself, is this what life is? Is failure inevitable, or can I ever overcome it? I think this as I begin to drift into the protection of my dreams. As I get one more day closer to joining all the people that I envy.