crazy killer

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June 18th, 2017






Sometimes I think I am going mad. I live for days in the mystery and tears of things so that the commonest object, the most familiar face - even my own- becomes ghostly, unreal, enigmatic. I get into an attitude of almost total skepticism, nescience, solipsism even, in a world of dumb, sphinx-like things that cannot explain themselves. The discovery of how I am situated as a sentient being on a globe in space overshadows me. I wish I was just nothing.


P.T.S.D I haven't really had time to process it all. Or maybe I will just push it under a rug, that rug. It's cramped, packed full. Spilling out over the ends. How much more can I sweep under that rug? It is so ugly anyway, I need to get rid of it, donate it to Goodwill.

“You're crazy”. The words just echo over and over in my head. I guess my father could fabricate quite a good story in the last five years. Where I am? What I am doing? Who? How? What? Why? 

What the fuck ever. 

Well, crazy successful. I wish Celeste would have yelled that back at Jill. When I opened the front door to my parents house and yelled for my mom, frantically, heart pounding out of my chest.

Did she hear me?

I yelled out loud again, “EMMMMMMMMAAAA”, just so she knew it was me. No one else called her that. 

Had she really chosen not to come to the door? 

Was she home? 

Dad wasn’t there. She had free will, but still never came. 

What has been said to her to make her treat me this way, fear me in such a way?

God, I just want to let it all go. Let go. My stomach is in knots. Crying and crying until I literally cannot breath. My heart is dying. This hole that is left is so big, nothing can fill it. Nothing.

I saw my nephew for the first time, ever. I think he is almost 5 years old, he looked so frightened, scared, paralyzed as he stared back at me. 

For what reason? 

This trauma is so real. It's taking a toll on my mental health, my life, my physical health. And please don’t tell me to give it time. I have given it fucking time. I have done the impossible. I have done everything in life for hope that maybe just maybe today, they will need me, think about me, wonder…
 
Why? You know what? 

I already know that answer to that, I am gay. I am a homosexual and I love women. I dont' follow the Word of God, nor am I Christian. That is exactly why.

My father is a racist homophobic.

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