Diseased

 

Have I always been selfish?

All I can remember is growing,  getting anything I wanted, whenever I wanted it.

There is no memory of a humble and helpful Emman.

What have I done with the talents I’ve acquired? The assets bestowed unto me?

Has my purpose been nullified not by the world, but by myself?

Hell, by even seeking my purpose, have I simply become what I just questioned?

Has anyone actually ever been touched by me?

Or has everyone just been affected by me?

Do I have an impact in the world worth noting?

With everything I have, I feel like nothing was done.

Nothing of worth.

Nothing of purpose.

Nothing human.

Or do I feel that way only because of response?

Has everything I’ve ever done just gone unknown?

It shouldn’t matter, but why does it?

The human desire to be part of something bigger than they are comes to mind.

Have I always been so cold?

Yes.

I’ve always been thanked, but never appreciated.

My existence has been purely business in that sense.

But then what does it mean to be appreciated?

I’m only being selfish looking for that answer.

Do I even have any friends?

Anyone to care for me for who I am?

Maybe one.

But even then, my faults display crevices.

And that’s probably because I’m perceptually selfish.

So that puts me at 0.

Coulton is right. Me 0.

Has there been ANYTHING right about me?

/that moment when you realize you’ve just been screwing everything up.

You know, last year wasn’t the year of rejection – it was simply the awakening. It has always happened, and it always will. No matter my status of class, no matter my status of relationship, no matter my status of health – there is always rejection. It lies within, stored someplace House has no cure for.

On a much more related note – I’ve been sick and coughing for the last month.

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