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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2329720-The-Tale-of-a-Human-Unable-to-Live
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Rated: 18+ · Essay · Experience · #2329720
a prisoner in the shackles of his own thoughts
"Am I not considered a mistake of society?" - what self-critical thoughts come to my mind about my own essence.

And once again, I stand on the balcony, my gaze directed into the emptiness, similar to the state of my soul, and not at the city below. Thoughts creep into my head about ending the duration of my monotonous and soul-tormenting days... The same question I asked earlier hangs in the silence of my mind. "Am I a mistake of society?" Rejected by it? Maybe this world is not made for me, or I am not made for it?

Most people know what they want, what kind of happiness they are paving the way to, and for a person like me, their own death is enough for happiness. People are accustomed to keeping mementos and the memories themselves, but for me, the opposite situation. Regardless of the shades of feelings that I experienced in my past, any memories roll over me with a feeling of longing and anticipation of those very times when I felt good, when I knew how to fight my shadows. Memories make me more vulnerable, and I fall into despair even more.

I will never understand the reason for the manifestation of pronounced reactions in people, causing violent and sometimes destructive emotions. Yes, a person has the right to express their own feelings and thoughts, it does not matter through what actions, but ... this is not typical for me. People with any emotions,

enthusiastic, angry, it does not matter, are prone to stupid actions much more often. I try to avoid people not because I am afraid of them or hate them, it's just that I feel much more comfortable alone, this is the best thing for me in the current situation. Loneliness gives freedom - freedom from public opinion and rules, for myself I act as I think is best, also loneliness gives me a chance to throw off my masks of false emotions that I express in public, in order to seem like a "normal" person, but if I could, I would not hide my indifference to everything.

As a child, I was told, "don't be hot-tempered" or "always whiny." I took these words too seriously, and

my attitude towards myself changed significantly...

I needed control over my emotions, not a refusal of them.

In general, I think that society is not for me, I am worried about the thought that my loved ones and friends will know me as I am. Although... then why the hell am I writing this story.
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