Reasoning loneliness

Have you ever looked back on your actions of the past and loathed yourself to see what you were and what you have become? Don't you find it hard to appreciate anybody who exhibits these aspects of your past which you loathe so much and can see reflected as though a mirror on those around you? The feeling of loneliness at shunning all out who reflect such things is unlike anything you might experience. Observing these people whom you cannot bear to even hold eye contact, these people whom you know would have been loved and appreciated by the person you were once, now long gone. My friends are few and sparse, for none of them reflects those aspects that I shun. Such a simple thing as fanatical Young Adult Book readers who actually believe that they are reading something of importance but in reality waste their lives on petty literature. And to believe that I was once one of them. I must have read the entire Twilight saga three times, along with such pitiful series as the Hunger Games, the Mortal Instruments, the Infernal Devices, the Caster Chronicles,  among others that I wish to erase from my mind for all of eternity. As I see these people who adore such books I cannot help but to look away so as to hide my face of distaste and scorn. The insecurity that led me to lie my way to a slightly higher popularity status in my younger years makes me want to wretch every time I see someone of the sort trying the same thing, trying to make seem that they are always of the same opinion as those who are with them at the time. I want to wretch not because I find a specific loathsomeness in the person, but because I pity this person just as much as I feel disgusted by them. For I know what it was like to be alone and to feel that the only way to get into someone's good graces is to lie to make them like you. But this is no excuse, for I am still alone, but now embrace my decisions and opinions, standing by them and fighting off scorn and dislike. The option is there, but people do not want it, since it requires them to leave their comfort zone and step into the light where they will be scrutinized by all those around them.
I do believe that I might require a higher level of tolerance, but at the same time can still not ignore the decisions that these people are making. To make this clear, I try not to offend anybody's personal opinion if I can help it, but I also do not have the hypocrisy enough to just let it be, and rarely find any sort of friendship down such a path...

Lonely Poem

Probably the first in a long series of poems about being lonely...

I'm absolutely terrified, mortified

for I am alone, alone

the world seeks to deny me, defy me

for I am alone, alone

Alone in the world I cry, I sigh

Alone in the world I seek, I seek

seek for love which I cannot find

seek for love that has not shined

for nothing shines, not even on the highest peak

crying out to be heard, it's absurd

no one hears me in the herd, not a bird

the darkness closes in, and I'm to thin

to thin for I may sin, that sin which we are born in

and so alone I will die as I so lie

lie to say that I try to tie this tie

tie this tie of life, on the edge of a knife

Doomed

Geez, I thought I wrote happier stuff. But no matter, I'll keep on with the depressive stuff which I enjoy writing so much. Here I have to monologues about doom. Enjoy

If the line between hate and love is a fine one, does that mean that we could actually make the world slightly better? Sadly, that is a naïve idea. We are a cursed species, doomed to worry and occupy ourselves with meaningless causes. Unless we find change soon we will be doomed, once and for all. Die! I say, die for we have lost ourselves on the way.

Doomed we are, doomed to fleeting passion that takes control over us and our world destroys. Just as this ink slowly turns black*, so does our passion and our nature slowly poison us. The once pure mind is left black to die. So it is that will we all die: dark,black thoughts filling and drowning us. Black thoughts that slowly kills us from the inside; black thoughts that poison us and leave only ghosts of what our real selves were or could be.

Longing for America

So I got slightly home sick once, and ended up with this poem of four stanzas, four lines each.

I feel it

feel it in my bones

my destiny awaits me

across the vast sea

I feel her calling me

Lady America

her sweet song of liberty 

floats across Neptune's domain

Lady America calls across the waters

the waters that divide us

I used to hear her shout and scream

an now I struggle to catch a murmur 

Take me to he cruel fate

I beg of you, leave me not here

for I feel her calling, can you not hear?

She calls for me, longs for me, and I do too for her