CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
"I'm alone and I'm going mad," he said to himself, except he doubted he was going mad. In fact he'd never seen the truth of reality so clearly, the truth that life wasn't for him.
He was sitting in his bedroom, alone, reading the same websites he read every day, simply because he read them every day, not because he was actually interested in reading them anymore. He was sitting alone in his bedroom because he didn't like being outside and he didn't like being around other people, so alone in his bedroom was the most logical place for her to be.
He absolutely hated his life but he could literally see no alternative.
It wasn't the case that he was just CHOOSING to live the way he did, and it made him angry whenever anyway said he was. The person who said it most of all, of course, was himself, but that was just because he liked torturing himself.
He couldn't live a normal life. He'd had a normal life. It hadn't worked. People had done normal stuff, all around him. He'd observed, impassively. Sometimes normal stuff had happened to him. He'd observed, impassively. He didn't feel anything. Even then he didn't feel.
In a way he felt more now. At least he had frustration now.
He clicked "refresh" on the Battlestar Galactica message board he was browsing and found there had been one new reply since he'd last hit refresh, and only three new replies since he'd last posted 58 minutes ago. He wanted at least five before he replied to them. He didn't want to appear desperate. He already had the last reply in 42 of the 50 threads on the index page.
None of those 42 replies had had much thought put into them. They had just been something to do. He wasn't even particularly interested in talking about BSG. He wans't particularly interested in anything.
He'd let the nails on his left hand grow long so he could press them hard into his left thigh. He did this when he was feeling especially empty, just so he could feel something. He did it now.
He hit refresh again.
He hit the keyboard off his forehead.
He though of snapping the keyboard in two, but that would be stupid.
He thought of killing himself, briefly, but he wasn't particularly interested in killing himself. He wasn't particularly interested in anything.
One of his friends signed into MSN Messenger with the message "I'M IN LOVE, WHOOOO!" beside his display name. He quickly set his status to "appear offline" before the friend could message him.
He looked at the calendar and realised the year was nearly halfway over. This actually made him smile. Life wasn't very long after all. When he had been young he'd imagine life as being a very long thing indeed, so long that from his point of view it would seem like it would never end. He'd figured out that wasn't true about the time he turned 18. It had scared him then. Now, aged 29, it didn't scare him at all.
He hit refresh again and was please to see a further three replies. Time to get to work!
He dug his nails into his thigh and typed one handed the whole time. It took him two minutes and 58 seconds to post his replies. He then looked at the index page, feeling what once could have passed for satisfaction.
He looked out his bedroom window and saw two smiling, happy, teenage girls walking down the street. He tried to think back to the girls he'd went to school with, then remembered that he'd never talked to any of them. He'd never been on a date. For some reason this made him get up right close to the window, he could see his breath against it.
Perhaps he was suppose to be a sex pest, he mused, as he looked at the girls' asses. He felt a slight tingling below.
Then he felt more pathetic than he ever had in his life as he realised he was a 29 year old man about to masturbate over two 15 year olds he'd glanced through the curtains for just thirty seconds or so. He drove his nails into his thigh and held them there. He twisted them.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" he laughed. He thought of opening the window and laughing so loud that the girls would hear, but they were aleady gone.
He still doubted that he was going mad.
He clicked refresh again.
He was sitting in his bedroom, alone, reading the same websites he read every day, simply because he read them every day, not because he was actually interested in reading them anymore. He was sitting alone in his bedroom because he didn't like being outside and he didn't like being around other people, so alone in his bedroom was the most logical place for her to be.
He absolutely hated his life but he could literally see no alternative.
It wasn't the case that he was just CHOOSING to live the way he did, and it made him angry whenever anyway said he was. The person who said it most of all, of course, was himself, but that was just because he liked torturing himself.
He couldn't live a normal life. He'd had a normal life. It hadn't worked. People had done normal stuff, all around him. He'd observed, impassively. Sometimes normal stuff had happened to him. He'd observed, impassively. He didn't feel anything. Even then he didn't feel.
In a way he felt more now. At least he had frustration now.
He clicked "refresh" on the Battlestar Galactica message board he was browsing and found there had been one new reply since he'd last hit refresh, and only three new replies since he'd last posted 58 minutes ago. He wanted at least five before he replied to them. He didn't want to appear desperate. He already had the last reply in 42 of the 50 threads on the index page.
None of those 42 replies had had much thought put into them. They had just been something to do. He wasn't even particularly interested in talking about BSG. He wans't particularly interested in anything.
He'd let the nails on his left hand grow long so he could press them hard into his left thigh. He did this when he was feeling especially empty, just so he could feel something. He did it now.
He hit refresh again.
He hit the keyboard off his forehead.
He though of snapping the keyboard in two, but that would be stupid.
He thought of killing himself, briefly, but he wasn't particularly interested in killing himself. He wasn't particularly interested in anything.
One of his friends signed into MSN Messenger with the message "I'M IN LOVE, WHOOOO!" beside his display name. He quickly set his status to "appear offline" before the friend could message him.
He looked at the calendar and realised the year was nearly halfway over. This actually made him smile. Life wasn't very long after all. When he had been young he'd imagine life as being a very long thing indeed, so long that from his point of view it would seem like it would never end. He'd figured out that wasn't true about the time he turned 18. It had scared him then. Now, aged 29, it didn't scare him at all.
He hit refresh again and was please to see a further three replies. Time to get to work!
He dug his nails into his thigh and typed one handed the whole time. It took him two minutes and 58 seconds to post his replies. He then looked at the index page, feeling what once could have passed for satisfaction.
He looked out his bedroom window and saw two smiling, happy, teenage girls walking down the street. He tried to think back to the girls he'd went to school with, then remembered that he'd never talked to any of them. He'd never been on a date. For some reason this made him get up right close to the window, he could see his breath against it.
Perhaps he was suppose to be a sex pest, he mused, as he looked at the girls' asses. He felt a slight tingling below.
Then he felt more pathetic than he ever had in his life as he realised he was a 29 year old man about to masturbate over two 15 year olds he'd glanced through the curtains for just thirty seconds or so. He drove his nails into his thigh and held them there. He twisted them.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" he laughed. He thought of opening the window and laughing so loud that the girls would hear, but they were aleady gone.
He still doubted that he was going mad.
He clicked refresh again.
