A truth

Rant of sorts I suppose.
I don't know.
I'm a mess and the best at the same time. I don't know how to deal with anything going on right now.
I can't talk to anyone because I know exactly what they'll say, and this is something I just cannot fix.
I can't fix myself; I can't fix the way I am. Well, I guess sometimes you can, but this time, I've just got to stick through this, type at super speed and get anything I can out of my head, onto the screen, onto something tangible.
I feel so alone.
Such a failure. So lost and so dizzy. I know, and then I don't. Life isn't meant to be simple - and this is simple, if you think about it in relative terms. There is a black and white if you want there to be - and there's always the shades of grey if you want there to be too.
I want to fast forward and rewind all at once. Just escape.
Escape escape.
Scratch at the this wall, bring it down. Hands and nails and aggression. Watch it crumble before me - dust dissipating and floating away. And then there'll be peace.
I don't want pity, I don't want 'I told you so.' I don't want to talk to you or anyone else for that matter.
I hate the way I build things up.
I hate the way I know so much yet so little.
I hate the way I feel sick right now. Sick at these thoughts. Sick at my attempts to think positively. Sick to watch everyone else.

In the end, I will be fine. In the end I shall find reasons to be positive. I will find distractions. I will find.
But not now.
Now is a time for death and deliberance. For obsessing and dying a little inside.