public: true date: 2015-01-29T00:00:00Z excerpt: The Nausea is real. title: I'm Serious tags: essay aliases:
I'm fucking insane but my intentions are gold and my heart is pure.
I have an immense hunger for creation. I spend all of my time trying to understand how things are made so that I can make them myself. I dissect everything, constantly. People are puzzles, machines are my playthings. I taught myself computer science from the ground up and I make
really good software
and I am fascinated by the concept of [AI]; with my career, I intend to push the limits of what is possible with this amazing technology.
Along with that hunger comes an equally profound desire for destruction. It gnaws at my soul day and night. From a young age I have known the value and beauty of life and creation, even if I have secretly always wanted to snuff it all out. I do not want to destroy things, but I often *feel like I need to*. I am stronger than that, but only because I have practiced meditation regularly for the last thirteen years. (Context: I'm 23) Keeping my life together takes immense mental fortitude: I am an atom bomb trying not to explode.
This is not a cry for help. This is not a suicide note. I will keep living and creating until my body expires. If I am given the opportunity for immortality, I will take it. I really, really love being alive: it is exhilarating. I just want it to be understood that I'm not kidding. I do not want a crutch or special treatment. I simply wish to be understood. My pain is real and occasionally overwhelming.
To illustrate, somewhat, the world I live in, let me share a poem I once wrote the subject:
The nausea never really went away.<br /> A bitter gall in my heart,<br /> A festering wound in my soul.<br /> The taste makes everything sweet turn bitter;<br /> Ashes of everything good.<br /> Bitter ooze drips from the pores of<br /> Everything I see: my soul weeps.<br />
I die every night. I am reborn every morning:<br /> Endless days, ceaseless death, unrelenting birth.<br /> I wish for an end, but there is no escape.<br /> I must live, hunted, haunted,<br /> Full of shame, tortured by regret,<br /> With a cold and empty heart.<br /> A fire long neglected.<br />
I don't know how to stop being alone.<br /> I don't know how to believe I exist.<br /> I don't know how to believe anything matters.<br /> I don't know how anyone could want *me*.<br /> I'm afraid of what I'll do to them if they do.<br /> I'm afraid to try.<br />
I want to watch the world ***burn***.
I do not want you to worry, I am fine. My thoughts hurt me sometimes, but I never let them keep me down. Everything is already wonderful, I can only expect it will get better. Knowing you care, and, more importantly, that you *understand*, means an awful lot.
Thank you, my friends, for being there.
[AI]: Artificial Intelligence