Look, I have to vent about how I wasted my life. Bear with me.
For the first three years of my life, I couldn't remember jack stuff. I don't know what I did. I want to know, but my mind could not process the information properly. Maybe I hit my head to hard when I was young and I got amnesia, maybe I just couldn't process information the way I do know way back when. But I want to know what I did, what I could've done, what opportunities I had missed. But I know that knowing this would just make me feel worse about myself, knowing that I had so many opportunities that I missed simply because of lack of coherent thought.
And then we move on to the next few years of my life. I could remember this stage of my life, but it's blurry, but some of my fondest memories were tied to this stage in my life. I was so happy. So carefree. So joyous, I could've bursted out in laughter at the smallest joke. I was so dumb, as well. So ignorant of what I could've been doing, but haven't. I didn't have a care in the world, and it's made me a worse person because of it. If I had actually been paying attention instead of fooling around like a dumbass, I wouldn't have hit my head so loving hard on a metal pole. That was the first time I cried because of pain. You know what was one of my fondest memories from this period? Back when I was drawfed by a stuffed, toy dog, about three feet tall. I keep remembering that dog, and no matter how I think about it, I always loved that toy.
And skip over to childhood. True childhood, a few years after school had started, so around second and third grade. Back during the time where I had some serious emotional control problems. I was set off at the slightest thing, and had to disagree with people for the sake of arguing. I was stupid, selfish, and didn't give a single stuff about what I was doing to the people around me. All I cared about was myself, and even then, I was still somewhat carefree and happy as a lamb. Well, except when people pissed me off, but you know what I mean. My friends were great, I never got mad at them, they never got mad at me. Sometimes we didn't get along on the friendliest of terms, but we never yelled at each other.
This all changed at adolescence. The shift to the way I act now was gradual, but evident. I slowly became more and more cynical, albeit more controlled. I learned to control my emotions, but less control and more suppress. All of the emotions, by the way. But happiness is harder to get out than anger, sorrow, and hatred are. They began to bubble back up until I became a horrid person, who has an air of anger about him, who doesn't think twice about offending somebody, and doesn't care. I get along better with books than I do people, and books get along better with me. Why? Because books don't talk back. They just sit there, giving me the thrill of watching the protagonist of the tale adventure off to do something. And every time I do this, I grow more and more attached to the books and less to people. Living, breathing creatures. I spent more time alone than I did with people, and that made me lose the scraps of social skill I had left, never to be recovered.
As we proceed to high school, I will simply become more dismal, more detached, and even less like-able.
If we keep going, this pattern will continue, until I plateau and simply become an empty shell of the cheerful child I once was.
I've lost that happy spark I used to have.
That cheerful little speck of light.
I buried it under tonnes and tonnes of my anger, grief, and hatred.
Most people fanned it into a small fire.
Others managed to get it into a massive blaze.
Other still managed to bring forth an inferno of optimism and cheerfulness, brightening up the day of anybody around them.
But me?
I had crushed the spark 'neath my heel, suppressing what could become a great fire of smiles and cheer, and plunging me into ever-consuming darkness.
Well, I guess that was less a vent and more me telling you my life story.
I feel lighter now. Like I just took the weight of every stressful moment, every doubt, every bad choice in my life off my shoulders.
