I'm Not Understood Because No One Knows The Feeling

There is a belief that within every “good” person there lies deep the possibility to be that which they oppose. In laymen’s terms; for each good person there is the chance of bad inside themselves. You know the story, the hero gone rogue, the vigilante that makes his own justice, the fallen angel and of course the self forsaken hero. It’s always the internal conflict in a good soul that tends to get the best of us and twist it to everything we don’t want to face. Yesterday…I faced every single monstrous emotion I managed to suppress. Things I considered evil within the human heart that I chose not to express, not to become, and I tried hard not to feel it either…But this time nothing helped and I really felt he darkness in me overwhelm my thinking. I never told my dad the extent to which I hated him and why…and how much I simply wished to hurt him for making me feel lesser than I should…I never told my ex how much I hated her for making me feel like I was so useless and that my feelings were not valid or simply didn’t matter and that I wasn’t good enough…I never told my sister how much I hated her arrogant attitude…I never told my brother my brother how much sometime I simply wanted to beat his *** for trying to be so tough all the time…I never told my best friend how sometimes I simply wanted to break him apart whenever he applied that tough *** attitude and making me feel like he could actually beat me in a fight when he doesn’t know I would rip him to pieces…I hate being threatened, especially by someone that close to me and he doesn’t know it makes me rage inside. I never told anyone how much I started to completely hate all other black people for some time because of how much they made me feel that much worse about being a different type of black male just because I spoke enhanced grammar and was into alternative music, dress styles, hobbies…And I hated every last one of them for making me feel less than human…I never was given the chance to tell my maternal grandmother how much I wanted to kill her for making me walk this road for her abuse to me…I never made it clear to anyone that I wanted to pay back every bully who hurt me and made me feel so helpless when I lost to their aggression…I hated every person who made me cry because I hated to reveal sadness. I just wanted to be that simple, goofy, intelligent, happy boy that wanted to be every one’s friend…that wanted to be some girl’s prince, that wanted to make the world a better place for everyone…I never wanted grandeur, I never wanted arrogance, I never wanted to be how I am because there is so much negativity in me that should not be here. And now I understand because of one night. I understand it all. And some people won’t understand why I am…but I do. I blame myself and the world for adding to me, things I did not want.
Rage…everything there is what my heart held on to because it was my reaction to the world and I know why. SO now I’m breaking and I am venting…
I gained vanity and conceit because everyone always told me I was ugly and dark and simply unattractive and girls made fun of me.
I gained anger from the fact that I was reacting to people being cruel to me. All I could do was lash out…deep down I wanted peace, but trying to be violent to them was the only way I thought they would stop bullying me, to make them leave me alone.
I gained arrogance because me thinking I was better than the people who did me wrong was the only way to “put them in their place” I rarely give enough people the though of being equal to me. Not everyone but just those people who actually don’t have any redeeming qualities to them…I became so judgmental because they too judged me negatively with no justification. And I did nothing to them so. So I gave myself to be their judge. That way no matter what they thought, it wouldn’t mean a thing: they weren't worth my dignity and certainly just a drone of a human…
I learned violence from those who inflicted it upon me. I learned to strike back from those who struck first.
Hatred…my most “valuable asset”…with that hate driving me, I had the motivation to carry ill will towards someone who was not in my best interest…I learned to hate because all I needed to tell myself is that they “were mean to me…they hurt me” That’s all I needed and was my only company for the longest time…and that was all I needed to protect myself.
Depression...because I hated myself for everything I felt. I felt like I didn’t belong in a world that could not, and chose not to accept nor understand me, my mind, my differences. So my solution...separate from the world emotionally and mentally…no matter how much my heart told me to find company and love.
Envy and jealousy because every small child that walked by with their parents, I felt like I had missed out on something great…that love, that support, that…experience. That stage of life is dead on me and I can’t shake the feeling that I want that so much…but not from my own father…**** him. He can’t do the job right. Mr. Hard-@ss life story himself. I don’t see pity for reformed drug addicts. He had no excuse. No matter what happened to me, I never once chose drugs as an escape. His former weakness disgusts me, yet he has the nerve to try and throw his life or his "wisdom" in my face. I was always jealous of the fact that my siblings found family, and friends and close bonds so much earlier than I did. They found love and support from others all the while I suffered traveling…I was jealous of the fact that for some reason no matter how good I thought I was, people always liked my younger brother much more. I was always jealous of the fact that people who were so much more vile in nature compared to me had friends and possibly someone to love them…yet a person like me couldn’t get a girl to look twice in my direction. I was always jealous of the fact that every attempt I have made at love has failed me, yet others seem to have all the fortune and they are dicks. I am jealous of the fact that I stick out like a sore thumb with my own people and made a mockery and spectacle of, and considered “not black” simply because I am the way I am, yet other black people perpetuate ignorance and misplaced arrogance yet they “belong”…that is “how I’m suppose to be". I can't fight the fact that I am simply not built that way.  I am jealous of the fact I have no actual blood parents, seeing as I raised myself…Maybe I want to be held, I want to be consoled, I want to be complimented. I want to be given a pat on the pat and be simply subjected to kindly love, primarily maternal if I had a choice…I don’t really like men much…Women are more comforting to my heart…I want to be loved by someone again with no complication to get there…so that even if I become so dark again there is one person for me that can actually help me back to “myself", if I can’t do it…I just wanted simple good things..
And Wrath…I consider wrath the collective feelings of everything I just described…my anger is simply there…and I hate myself for not exhuming it and discharging from within me…I hate everything and everyone else for giving me these “gifts”…I never wanted to be a complicated or troubled human/adult/man…I didn’t want any of this…and my “friends” and “family” wonder why I am the way I am or why I react to certain things or simply behave in such drastic ways at times…they can thank themselves for it. Their actions in part lead to it. And do I try and take responsibility for it all, but I simply did not choose to make myself this way, I didn’t!  What happened yesterday just made me face the devil within me…and it was so terrible…I wanted death, I wanted destruction, pain, agony, sadness, absolute end…But in the end its all sadness…no matter how I try to mask it, it all comes down to sadness. It’s like I have a hole here inside me…after every fight, I cry after an argument, I cry, if I lose touch with close friends because they choose to go, I blame myself and I cry…yesterday when I felt everything that I did…I wanted to scream and cry…I wanted to just…cry my eyes out…just cry…because I know in the pits of my soul that I want to be able to forgive everything and wipe all the bad stuff away…to make it all sheer good again…to make my soul that of Light all over again…I thought I knew how but now I don’t know and the only thing I now have is the instinct to draw the embodiment of my emotion…and question what kind of human I really am. I know there is good in me…if there wasn’t than people wouldn’t lie that much, right?  So how do I know that I am genuinely good and righteous and made of good within knowing that I am capable of such damning feelings…How can I be sure I do the right ting for the sake of doing the right thing anymore after this...

InfiniteArgus InfiniteArgus
22-25, M
2 Responses Sep 16, 2010

Oh! Well thank you! I kind thought my writing needed serious improvement

i just read this and couldnt stop. i love ur writing about wrath and when u said to make my soul that of light again, it really hit me hard. i think u should write books if u can write with that much emotion, it was overflowing. but man i think u should look into human psychology cuz if u think ppl r gonna judge u, they will. the point is to become who u want to be and dont care what anyone thinks which will make u look confident. what will they judge then hey? take care man love ur writing!