hello, have you met him?

there was this video of him. he finished recording a lousy cover of "wonderwall," and then he must have accidentally hit the record button again after he'd finished. so, it was him for about ten minutes, not knowing he was being filmed. from what he saw, he could only feel pity for this person. he watched himself singing and playing a guitar for no good reason. he would not put it on youtube, he would not gain followers, he would never gain more than fifty hits on his video. at the sight of one negative comment, he would delete everything he'd ever done. he felt incredibly sorry for this person, this person he was viewing. but this is nothing new.

it's been a good long ride of self-pity. he started out young. he'd deny himself small amounts of pleasure, like going out for an ice cream or a new toy. he felt he'd never truly deserved anything. sometimes, he'd go to sunday school in a little chapel, which was connected to the main church, and he'd sit by himself. there were other kids his age there, mostly white, and he'd feel incredibly out of place. why did god make him different, make his skin and hair and eyes darker than the others? sure, jesus and the sunday school leader said they were all equal, but it certainly didn't feel that way. afterward, he'd walk back to his parents in the main church, and he could feel everyone looking at him.

he'd look at his parents, and his parents would be looking at him. this always made him laugh, and he didn't know why. there was something ridiculous about it, about wearing nice clothes and being in a house of god that was full of affluent, well-dressed white people. what was so funny about it? the sun would be shining through the stained glass windows, and the choir would be singing some song about light or mountains or glory. and he'd walk down the aisle, back to his parents, and this was just all so ridiculous, so funny.

maybe he just felt like a dope. he felt like a dope walking anywhere, whether it was just in a bar full of yuppies, or if it was going up the stage to receive his college diploma. there was just something curious about it all. he found this document on a website, one that showed how most people are going to die, based on age and race. most of it was due to cancer, heart disease, hypertension, and suicide. he saw that the older one got, the chance of that person committing suicide greatly decreased. he found this rather interesting. it was as though once a human being reached the age of 30, he thought to himself, well, i've invested this much time into living, i might as well see how it ends.

nothing felt like fun anymore. he heard a comment one day. somebody had said, once you turn 25, life gets a little more serious. he definitely remembers being 25 and how serious it felt. around that age, he'd told his girlfriend, it feels like there's nothing left to look forward to. he believed this for a long time, that there was nothing to look forward to, and it brought him to a very dark place. he didn't even like himself anymore, and he was hard to be around. he had to find something to look forward to. his problem was, he had been told, was that he thought too damn much.

it was easier when he just played his bloody war video games. or when he was in college and floated from class to class. or when he'd watch tv at night with his girlfriend. now all he did was write and think about how he'd rather be doing something else. how he'd rather be somewhere else, be someone else. anything else. he had to get out of his head. his head was a curse, full of bad dreams, monsters on life support. he'd read somewhere that, for some people, schizophrenia only becomes apparent once a person reaches adulthood. he'd read somewhere else that people can actually die of heartbreak.

his mind and everything inside of him was completely turbulent, so naturally, everything else around him had to be orderly. he tried not to own anything he didn't use. if he didn't use it, he got rid of it. sometimes, even if he did use it, he still got rid of it. maybe it went back to that whole thing about wanting to deprive himself. he worried he was a downer. he kept reading everywhere that if he wanted his life to improve, he had to think positively. he had to work on himself, build confidence and all that. smile. take up a hobby, travel, meet new people.

he'd been told that he should go see a counselor. he'd been told that he's too hard on himself, and that he never really let anyone into his life. he never took initiative. he certainly wasn't confident. he was passive-aggressive, and he did everything he could to avoid conflict. he immediately assumed that people didn't like him, and he always felt like he had nothing to offer, nothing to say. he always expected everything to come easy to him, and when it didn't, he'd get incredibly frustrated and hopeless.

someone kept telling him, if you really want something, you'll get it. maybe he didn't want anything anymore. and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, after all.

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