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you know christmas always meant so much to my mother. i seldom talk about her to be honest. im not sure if its because its hard, or because i dont want her memory tainted with new experiences. maybe its a bit of both? the truth is, christmas hasnt really felt like Christmas in a long while now. when my Biological father died, i lost a lot. something in me just kind of died i guess. weird to think. see he didnt have custody of me my whole life. my adopted parents were Mom and Dad to me. even though i knew he was my biological dad, i guess it didnt register to me until i was 22 or so that having him around meant that i still had something i wanted so badly. with him, i could share my music, i could share my experiences, and i could talk for hours. he was my best friend. and in 2019 he died. he went the way of all people in my life. so it wasnt until therapy that i even realized how badly it even affected me.
im sure some might look at this and say "dude you have family. you have friends" and to a degree i suppose you are right. of course youd see it in that light. but i pray that you never have to see the world through the eyes ive had to.
my family doesnt care about ,ME, the ones who did left and cast me aside over petty childish squabbles. the ones who are here arent interested in me, just the status it brings them to claim to be acquainted with me. small town fame and all that. exceot its growing beyond my town. i can drive 3 to 4 hours away, and go through a drive though and have a stranger tell me they know who i am. so now that im "interesting" of course my family cares. they see me with the rockstars, and the celebrities in my photos, and they think its something more. they seek what they can get. truth is i dont have anything. its all hollow. meaningless. shallow and ridiculous nothings that occupy space and time until the world comes crashing down on me. the truth is im not happy. i dont know how to be. 2 and a half years in therapy helped me realize some things sure, but in the end, i know im just as melancholy and sad as i ever have been.
people come and go. people say they care. and perhaps for a time they do. but you know the sad thing? plenty of them never reach out to me. its always " you never talk to me" or some varient. but explain why thats my fault? my numbers in your phone? you got me on snapchat, or some other random social media. im not that hard to get ahold of. i have people who go their own way, and sure thats fine. but i have some that make me feel as if im a bother. if i never recieve a reply, let alone a text or snap first, what would indicate that you WANT to talk to me? seems more like im just floating and being a bother. and i cant do that. i HATE being that guy. im often told that im an asshole. and i accept that. sometimes i am. but the truth is much simpler. im not actually an asshole. i just dont like the monotony of people trying to get close and then leaving. you simply can not comprehend how i view people. friendships, and their value. to me, it is immesurable. there are people i used to see on the street, that i never spoke to, but always noticed. when these various people died, i felt sad. sad for a stranger i didnt know. sad for a life i couldnt be a part of, couldnt save. sad for the whole in life that only i seem to be aware of.
anyway. enough of my ramblings. i dont know why i post these anyway. im so sporadic and unscheduled with my posts. i dont think that anyone reads them. perhaps its because i hope that one day when im gone, theres at least something left of me. someone will be able to know that something of my mental state existed for real. not the part i show to everyone.

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone
-Edgar Allan Poe

What truer words could ring in my soul? ive come to understand that i am simply nothing like other people. It doesnt seem to matter who i interact with, im either misunderstood to hated eventually. What good is admiration for something if it comes at the cost of knowing that they will eventually turn their back? just yesterday alone i learned of two people in my sword group that inexplicably hate me. One claims i used a racist slur. It simply didnt happen. nobody believes it did either. but the fact stands. They turned on me as people often do, and without warning. another member of the group doesnt show much anymore and when she does, apparently she had to tell her boyfriend that he cant come. Why? Because im making him jealous i guess. Ive never spoken to him, and i dont even talk to or look in the direction of, his girl. Id be rich if i got a dollar every time someone pulled that kind of thing.
So here it is, and here i stand, as Edgar says. “ and all i love i loved alone”

One day ill learn. ill learn not to look in the mirror anymore. Ill learn not to try to aspire to anything more than I already am. as Anne Rice said, “none of us ever really changes over time. We only become more fully what we already are” well here goes. im going to continue becoming more fully what I always have been. NOTHING. ALONE. That is my truth. everyone leaves me some way or another. its not worth staying near me. one day the pain will be gone, and i can just fade away into obscurity.