danielsomething
Virgin
- Joined
- May 19, 2004
- Posts
- 4
It is perhaps redundant for me to sit here and tell you how complicated life is.
But it is.
Life is very, very complicated.
Anything I tell you here is filtered through your own perception of life. I only have my own, so I cannot ever really know if what I’m trying to say will resonate within you. But herein, I make every attempt to connect to you as a human – that you might understand what it is to be me, and maybe wish to share in that experience, for better or worse.
Give me a moment of your time. Read to the end. Give my words a moment of your consideration.
Let me start by saying that I’m not trying to convince you of anything. This is not a sales pitch, and I’m not trying to make you like me. I’m trying to get something off my chest that weighs very heavily, and in doing so, I want to bear what lies beneath to you all.
I am a person of great power. I say so with utmost modesty, because it is not such a gift at times.
I’ve been an athlete for the greater part of the last decade, studying martial arts with a fierce devotion, only stopping to direct my attention elsewhere, with equal ferocity. I always come back to martial arts, though. There exists within me a capacity and natural talent for violence to such a degree that it frightens me, truly. I am strong, fast, agile, and focused. Though, I have never raised a hand against another human being. Such things lurk just behind my eyes that I am sometimes scared to close them.
I am also cursed with great intelligence. I say cursed, because, if you are anything like me, you know what it is to crave simplicity and the happiness it brings. It is not something I can shut off, nor turn down. I grasp the world around me with such swiftness and ease that I grow bored in seconds. I read people with a glance. I am ceaselessly planning, analyzing, tearing apart. It very often comes across as arrogance, a kid who thinks he knows everything, but the truth simply is that I’m just tired of being polite enough to keep my mouth shut.
I tell you these things because no one knows them about me.
Every day, I smile and nod, and pretend that I’m just a normal guy. That I’m just like everyone else.
I’m not.
Not a bit. Not even a little.
I have a dark side that consumes all that I am. Voices that fill me with doubt and self-loathing cripple everything I do. Happiness, for me, lasts a few ephemeral moments before it’s gone.
I tell you now, with as much sincerity as you are willing to believe, that I would trade it all to be happy with what life has given me.
But, I can’t be. I claw through life like I’m drowning in it. I pursue the things that I want with such tireless passion, then discard them.
I just don’t know what I’m for. Why I am this way. I feel so lost, and so alone.
If you’ve read this far, let me spell something out for you:
Nothing for me is every simple. Love, only less so. I have so much to give sometimes, and others, I feel bereft of anything but grief.
I’ll add a notable exception. Sex is simple. Like fighting, it is an activity that I throw myself into without reservation. I fuck until I can’t stand up anymore. It is the most wonderful vacation from rational thought, and I exercise that desire as often as I can.
But, most of all, I would like to share with you everything that I am. My complicated life. My nightmares. My power, for whatever it’s worth.
So, let’s meet, you and I. We’ll sit down at a bar and have some idle chatter over drinks. In demeanor, I will seem utterly normal, I think. You’d never know. But never again will I start a meaningful relationship with another person based on that pretext of normalcy. I want you to see into my head, know what lurks in me. I want to share that with you, because I cannot share it with a world such as ours.
You, of all people, should understand that about this world of sweat and tears that we both live in.
But it is.
Life is very, very complicated.
Anything I tell you here is filtered through your own perception of life. I only have my own, so I cannot ever really know if what I’m trying to say will resonate within you. But herein, I make every attempt to connect to you as a human – that you might understand what it is to be me, and maybe wish to share in that experience, for better or worse.
Give me a moment of your time. Read to the end. Give my words a moment of your consideration.
Let me start by saying that I’m not trying to convince you of anything. This is not a sales pitch, and I’m not trying to make you like me. I’m trying to get something off my chest that weighs very heavily, and in doing so, I want to bear what lies beneath to you all.
I am a person of great power. I say so with utmost modesty, because it is not such a gift at times.
I’ve been an athlete for the greater part of the last decade, studying martial arts with a fierce devotion, only stopping to direct my attention elsewhere, with equal ferocity. I always come back to martial arts, though. There exists within me a capacity and natural talent for violence to such a degree that it frightens me, truly. I am strong, fast, agile, and focused. Though, I have never raised a hand against another human being. Such things lurk just behind my eyes that I am sometimes scared to close them.
I am also cursed with great intelligence. I say cursed, because, if you are anything like me, you know what it is to crave simplicity and the happiness it brings. It is not something I can shut off, nor turn down. I grasp the world around me with such swiftness and ease that I grow bored in seconds. I read people with a glance. I am ceaselessly planning, analyzing, tearing apart. It very often comes across as arrogance, a kid who thinks he knows everything, but the truth simply is that I’m just tired of being polite enough to keep my mouth shut.
I tell you these things because no one knows them about me.
Every day, I smile and nod, and pretend that I’m just a normal guy. That I’m just like everyone else.
I’m not.
Not a bit. Not even a little.
I have a dark side that consumes all that I am. Voices that fill me with doubt and self-loathing cripple everything I do. Happiness, for me, lasts a few ephemeral moments before it’s gone.
I tell you now, with as much sincerity as you are willing to believe, that I would trade it all to be happy with what life has given me.
But, I can’t be. I claw through life like I’m drowning in it. I pursue the things that I want with such tireless passion, then discard them.
I just don’t know what I’m for. Why I am this way. I feel so lost, and so alone.
If you’ve read this far, let me spell something out for you:
Nothing for me is every simple. Love, only less so. I have so much to give sometimes, and others, I feel bereft of anything but grief.
I’ll add a notable exception. Sex is simple. Like fighting, it is an activity that I throw myself into without reservation. I fuck until I can’t stand up anymore. It is the most wonderful vacation from rational thought, and I exercise that desire as often as I can.
But, most of all, I would like to share with you everything that I am. My complicated life. My nightmares. My power, for whatever it’s worth.
So, let’s meet, you and I. We’ll sit down at a bar and have some idle chatter over drinks. In demeanor, I will seem utterly normal, I think. You’d never know. But never again will I start a meaningful relationship with another person based on that pretext of normalcy. I want you to see into my head, know what lurks in me. I want to share that with you, because I cannot share it with a world such as ours.
You, of all people, should understand that about this world of sweat and tears that we both live in.
Last edited:
