And it happened, again.
I don't know--well--I wonder why I am like this, in other words, become like this. Apparently I have an alter-ego which unpredictably shows up, surprising (probably) people around me, and me myself as well. Or, let's say that I have a bunch of shits which I'd really like to throw away from my mind but I just don't know how to do that that it keeps burdening me to death. Sounds annoying, doesn't it, when you feel burdened and you wanna scream the shits out but you can't because of something undefinable holds you so tight that you--whether you like it or not--gotta swallow those shits back and let them make you suffocate.
I myself feel pity for myself, for being like this, for being me. If I were someone else, if I were not Klaus, or if I were not destined to become this twenty years old dumbass... yeah you know I wonder how my life would be. Would it be better, or would it be worse? Well I'd never know because it would never happen, me becoming someone else.
I sometimes talk to myself, asking who I really am, what is the purpose of my life, and what I want to become. I seem not to have clear answer for those questions because.. you know, I change unpredictable and my mood could change within minutes as well, making me myself confused of who I really am, or what kind of human being I am. At some times on the peak of depression, I take a cutter and cut my arm like the way mom cuts chicken breast into fillet. I feel free, like I've just freed myself. People say, and my big brother says as well, that it's abnormal and that I have to stop it, but I don't feel like stopping it, and I have my own reason.
Why do I have to stop cutting my arms when depressed? Because that's how I--at my weakest point--express my emotion. I can throw things, even hurt people to death, but I don't want to. That's why I hurt myself. Well, that's not hurting for me, that's a good method of expressing my emotion without hurting other people or creating damage on things.
I feel like this writing is so crazy. My writing--this writing sounds so crazy that I seem to make such a nonsense writing, talking about myself, my insanity, my unstable mentality, or whatnot. And hereby I'd like to end this post by screaming aloud (it's actually just one word typed in all caps)
FUCK!
