I feel it inside me. Its slow creeping hand clutches upon my soul and drains me to the bone. Its touch is ever more present these days. There is blood in my stool. My heart physically feels weak. I'm always tiered and I just ... feel death coming. If I could count the days left I know I am near the end.
I feel it.
And as selfish as it sounds, I welcome it.
You hear of men in their last days forging for a legacy. The echo though out time to immortalize what they think of themselves. I hold no ego driven illusion. I know who I am. I know the pain I am and the darkness that pain spread through me. The darkness I unleashed upon others. I don't want a legacy. People will say nice things about me. People will gold up their own distorted illusions of the man who they think I was. The person they wanted me to be.
There will be no truth to this. Just honoring a lie to create a legacy within their own hearts to justify a loss that pains the ones bound to me by unconditional love. Some to comfort their own misunderstanding of not being able to comprehend what I went though. Some though guilt of never trying. I'm okay with this. Remember me however you need. Do on to yourselves what brings you the peace you need to leave me behind. I forgive you.
While you struggle to understand who I was, to understand the kind if person I am, please, do not try. I am a by-product of a chemical imbalance subjected to the kind of childhood that left me stripped of any chance at a normal life. The only way I have ever survived is by keeping myself in to myself. Never give them anything they could use against you. I never gave anyone the whole picture. I could never open myself up raw to anyone. Oh how I tried. Oh how I lament the ones who make it look so easy that it leaves me seething softly in a dark corner of my mind mocking those to ease my salted wounds.
I wasn't always like this though. My heart, a free spirited heart defaults to believe that their is good in everyone. It believes the lies spewed forth from the devils in my life and the cracks laid deep with in my heart were chipped away at until the blackness with in created fissures. I had to close myself off from you all. I had to protect you from myself. So I grew distant from myself.
Let go of me to save you.
I don't know who I am.
Just who I use to be.
I tried to live by a code in my life. Something tangible within myself to hold on too. Something to give me credit to the trials I have survived. What I have learned though, it you have to believe in yourself, believe that there is a point to it all to make sense of a code. My examples were poor. And more often then naught, my positive transgressions were met with ironic failure to feel anything and to grow as a person. Life taught me that Karma is a lie. That some people are born damned. We are not all created equal. Some of us are designed to fall from grace without a say. Without redemption.
When I accepted this notion, I put my life in to the hands of fate. She kept me alive no matter the path I walked. No control. Kept me afraid of the obvious exit strategies and kept me safe from putting the choice in to the hands of another. I still stood after I proved the design of the theft of my control.
After that how could I feel anything?
The truth is none of the images that you have inside of your heads of who you think I am are accurate. Talk amongst yourselves and I promise each and every one of you has a different idea of the person I was.
This is no accident.
I lived my life conforming to the path of least resistance when it came to others, but I always chose the path if greatest resistance to my own personal choices. I said the things that you wanted to hear. Did what you generally wanted me to do (if the demon allowed it). I truly never had an original opinion or outward thought. The idea of who I was is just a collection of the fragments I absorbed throughout my life. Just tools to gain the reactions I needed to survive. To make my life easier. Ever noticed how I always had something to say, usually the right thing? Or at least until the subject shifted towards my personal thoughts and feelings? How I always had the ability to say a lot while saying nothing about who I was on the inside? I can share my opinions, I usually make them up as I go, but I could never share how I am feeling beyond general desire and anger.
There is simply not much there. A lot of passion with no heart to direct it.
This is why I could never accept praise. Why I never had an ego (a real one) and why I broke down mentally when my music began to gain momentum. Why I self destructed. I cannot accept it. Its too foreign, I'll never comprehend self worth let alone self acceptance. I wasn't built with it inside if me.
The closest I had to feeling it was vicariously through my daughter's joy and innocence. That above all was the closest I have ever been to defining who I was but still never grasped the idea enough to take hold upon myself.
I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry I had to reveal the empty truth to who I think I was and strip you of the lies I implanted inside each and everyone of you. Just know I did it for you. I did it to protect you.
I feel it.
And as selfish as it sounds, I welcome it.
You hear of men in their last days forging for a legacy. The echo though out time to immortalize what they think of themselves. I hold no ego driven illusion. I know who I am. I know the pain I am and the darkness that pain spread through me. The darkness I unleashed upon others. I don't want a legacy. People will say nice things about me. People will gold up their own distorted illusions of the man who they think I was. The person they wanted me to be.
There will be no truth to this. Just honoring a lie to create a legacy within their own hearts to justify a loss that pains the ones bound to me by unconditional love. Some to comfort their own misunderstanding of not being able to comprehend what I went though. Some though guilt of never trying. I'm okay with this. Remember me however you need. Do on to yourselves what brings you the peace you need to leave me behind. I forgive you.
While you struggle to understand who I was, to understand the kind if person I am, please, do not try. I am a by-product of a chemical imbalance subjected to the kind of childhood that left me stripped of any chance at a normal life. The only way I have ever survived is by keeping myself in to myself. Never give them anything they could use against you. I never gave anyone the whole picture. I could never open myself up raw to anyone. Oh how I tried. Oh how I lament the ones who make it look so easy that it leaves me seething softly in a dark corner of my mind mocking those to ease my salted wounds.
I wasn't always like this though. My heart, a free spirited heart defaults to believe that their is good in everyone. It believes the lies spewed forth from the devils in my life and the cracks laid deep with in my heart were chipped away at until the blackness with in created fissures. I had to close myself off from you all. I had to protect you from myself. So I grew distant from myself.
Let go of me to save you.
I don't know who I am.
Just who I use to be.
I tried to live by a code in my life. Something tangible within myself to hold on too. Something to give me credit to the trials I have survived. What I have learned though, it you have to believe in yourself, believe that there is a point to it all to make sense of a code. My examples were poor. And more often then naught, my positive transgressions were met with ironic failure to feel anything and to grow as a person. Life taught me that Karma is a lie. That some people are born damned. We are not all created equal. Some of us are designed to fall from grace without a say. Without redemption.
When I accepted this notion, I put my life in to the hands of fate. She kept me alive no matter the path I walked. No control. Kept me afraid of the obvious exit strategies and kept me safe from putting the choice in to the hands of another. I still stood after I proved the design of the theft of my control.
After that how could I feel anything?
The truth is none of the images that you have inside of your heads of who you think I am are accurate. Talk amongst yourselves and I promise each and every one of you has a different idea of the person I was.
This is no accident.
I lived my life conforming to the path of least resistance when it came to others, but I always chose the path if greatest resistance to my own personal choices. I said the things that you wanted to hear. Did what you generally wanted me to do (if the demon allowed it). I truly never had an original opinion or outward thought. The idea of who I was is just a collection of the fragments I absorbed throughout my life. Just tools to gain the reactions I needed to survive. To make my life easier. Ever noticed how I always had something to say, usually the right thing? Or at least until the subject shifted towards my personal thoughts and feelings? How I always had the ability to say a lot while saying nothing about who I was on the inside? I can share my opinions, I usually make them up as I go, but I could never share how I am feeling beyond general desire and anger.
There is simply not much there. A lot of passion with no heart to direct it.
This is why I could never accept praise. Why I never had an ego (a real one) and why I broke down mentally when my music began to gain momentum. Why I self destructed. I cannot accept it. Its too foreign, I'll never comprehend self worth let alone self acceptance. I wasn't built with it inside if me.
The closest I had to feeling it was vicariously through my daughter's joy and innocence. That above all was the closest I have ever been to defining who I was but still never grasped the idea enough to take hold upon myself.
I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sorry I had to reveal the empty truth to who I think I was and strip you of the lies I implanted inside each and everyone of you. Just know I did it for you. I did it to protect you.
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