[Mr. Retro]

I'm a writer, and I like to consider myself well versed in wax-philosophy and pseudo-intellectualism. This works against me when I'm upset, ergo:

The past few months have given me a theory, and I do not know if I fully believe it yet, but it does make sense: Human beings do not really love or care about anyone at all. They care about the sensations they can derive from other people, and it's only when we are deprived of these sensations that we feel any remorse at all for losing the person in question. We are all sad, pitiful creatures who want nothing more than to smile and will lie to ourselves as much as we need to for that little bit of joy we can make ourselves believe we have.

Why else would I really be afraid of insulting anyone? Surely, it's not love, or affection, as I do not know them truly. Instead, it is because for some reason, talking to them. makes me happy. Happy because they are a surrogate for the attention I deprive myself of. I'm just a miserably lonely person who reaches out into something that I can't even prove exists. Hell, I see it with my parents too. Sure, I make them happy with my presence, but when my presence happens to speak up, I am depriving them of that sensation of ownership and company and instead one of competition and anger as I challenge their authority out of my own desire for a sensation of equality. I am merely a tool for other people to convince themselves they are not as pathetic as I realize I am.
Our selfish side side makes us want to be pitiful. Secretly, it's our own desire to be childlike again. To be cared for and concerned about in a coddling way. We want to be pathetic, as humans.
Why else make God a father figure and us unable to control anything?
Because we don't want to control. We want mommy to hold our hand and tell us everything is going to be okay.

This is not diatribe. This is not something brought on by depression. This is what I truly believe, only pushing it back with optimism and hope that I will one day be 'loved' like I love others. Every single human being is utterly and completely pointless, guided by instinct and brain chemical, with only imagination as our redeeming quality. Despite that, I will forget what I have writtem probably within the span of hours, and instead go back to my same weak, subdued self who fears angry reactions and panicks at something as inconsequential as a test.
I'm not suicidal. I'm not mentally ill. I am speaking the truth, and you all know it. What you choose to take from it is your choice, and I take no blame for your actions after this. If you should choose to think me mad for what I say here, then I am sorry to say you are truly rooted so deeply in your delusions that you would hurt anyone to keep your own ideals safe.


It's not emo, it's nihilistic and misanthropic!