I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bed …

I’m the monster, I’m the bad guy. Somehow, in life, the more you behave the more you are excluded from society, the more you get punishment and contempt.

Rationally or not, I behave in a way that avoids conflict, but it seems that whatever I do is useless. I think there are a lot of people who want a fight.

Looks of people who seem to want to challenge you.

On the other hand, you heard people say it was to “protect” someone, fear for “their friend”, but that’s not such a look, no.

It is a provocative look.

I have seen many looks, I know the language of the body, I have also studied a little of it in my university courses.

I have the profound certainty that this is something he wants to fight.

But unlike what he likes to think, I’m not wild enough to take every provocation.

It is clear that there are several things wrong here.

I have always wanted to try not to hate anyone, where “hate” is wanting someone’s evil. Well, if someone makes you suffer, regardless of the situation, it is normal that they wish them evil, perhaps the same that they have caused you, not physical, of course.

They all have the desire to fill their mouths with very heavy terms that they use lightly:

Maniac, Stalker, Rapist, and the like.

Of course I have never done anything like this in my entire life, not even in the smallest percentage.

The thing that worries me is that I’m not the only one receiving these things.

Judged for things you’ve never done, marginalized by society, marginalized by those who rise to judge, without having the right?

Just because they come from who knows which family, but here we know, it is enough to have a pinch more than the others to believe you are a god.

The further I go the more I think it’s not my head that’s fucked up.

But I’m the monster.

Do you happen to hear songs that you feel that describe your life 100%? It happens often to me.

And you tink I’m Crazy,

well that’s nothing.

I think that if a person, especially if he is good like me, is led to think badly, to hate, to want someone’s bad, someone has brought it to us.

I’m certainly not one who wakes up and decides to hate, I’ve always been provoked.

But I am the monster, it is always more comfortable to think so for those who define me in this way.

Go ahead and think I’m the worst thing that ever existed, like it’s the reincarnation of Hitler or something.

In short, a person who has no right to anything. One who is totally indefensible and unjustifiable, without even the right to love someone, to fall in love, boh.

It wasn’t logical, I don’t deserve it, I can’t even breathe.

I can’t even dare to look at it for a second, otherwise they arrest me, me.

Nowadays, I still desire the good, only for her. To those who helped to make me feel like this, however, no. I don’t think it will be that easy for me to forgive.

Who do I have it with, after all? Could it be just because I don’t talk to her anymore? No.

The truth is that I am pissed off because they hurt me, that a part of me, of my life that I liked a lot, was brutally killed.

It was tiring, but I’m getting out of it. But nobody understands it, nobody sees it. I guess that from those fucking glasses, with that provocative look, you only see what doesn’t exist.

Ironic, they created more imaginative stories about me than I can ever do. Maybe I should have them do the job of writing.

Luckily, today I have someone else to invest the love I had for them. Now I really have a new heart, my old one has stayed there for her. A gift that she may have thrown away, but no longer counts.

But there is something else positive.

Apart from the fact that anyway, regardless of everything, I have new experiences and knowledge and I can never do without it, and even if it hurts it’s still good.

I have to thank these people, because they pushed me to think, to “scream”:

– How the fuck is that possible?

They wanted me to think of myself as being what they wanted, and they certainly weren’t friends. I regretted sharing time, laughter, and love with them. This fucking infinite love that exists inside of me.

Bastard.

Now, I ain’t much of a poet

But I know somebody once told me to seize the moment

And don’t squander it ‘cause you never know when it all

Could be over tomorrow, so I keep conjurin ‘

Now I redeem myself for what happened in the past, something very similar. Now I understand it’s not my fault. That I AM NOT A MONSTER.

I am a human being, I am a sinner. There is no point in moralizing. It is clear that we will desire the woman of others, it is clear that we sometimes want to punch someone. It’s human, we were born that way. The church’s utopian hypocrisy of making us believe we can never commit sin is bullshit.

Do you want to judge me for being human?

But I would be a

MONSTER if it were otherwise, right?

I only see envy for me, a person who looks ahead in spite of everything, who in spite of everything cannot stop loving.

That he is always hungry, always curious, which is how he feels alive.

This is a city of the dead. A city where there are cock suckers that the only satisfaction in life is to break my cock when they meet me around.

And I don’t know whether to feel pity or disgust.

I can’t stand it being thought of me that I am this monster, I can’t stand being looked at in that way, especially if I’ve never done it.

After years I know I’ve always been completely healthy. It was the others who made me feel different.

And it is useless to write it, it is useless to tell it.

I know that those who look at me badly will always have that opinion about me.

And it is very sad.

I would have preferred and would have continued to love everyone and everyone forever …

Instead, they are all ready to manipulate, out of envy, out of malice, because there is simply something wrong.

I am the monster, I am always and only me the villain of the story.

Too bad about one thing though: I would like to be as cool as them, but instead … they’re like loser characters, just think.

Or maybe I’m really crazy, who knows. Yes, maybe I’m crazy just because I say and think all these things.

And that’s fine with me, because that’s how I’m fine, that’s how I love myself.

Face facts: I am nuts for real, but I’m okay with that!

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