The point in it all

Something I never understand is if there is a real point in me ever writing down what I feel or think. Sure, I can come back to it years later and understand what I felt back then, I ever do that now but it never really helps me. Right now I am pulling myself away from all people just because I don't feel I can take them anymore. We as humans disgust me with our abilities to lie and play games with others and even ourselves. I hate that so many minds are just filled with fog and the encumbrance of our own stupidity, and that I am among them. I can't handle it all to be honest. I want to become recluse and forget about all humanity but I can't I need their emotions, I need their reactions, their love. I don't know how I could live without them all but at the same time the things they do drive me insane and make me feel even more alone than if I was without them. I try to explain myself and how I feel but my words fly right over the heads of the ones I love and trust, I'm again alone.

The hate I feel, hate is anger. Anger is the opposite of acceptance, acceptance being anger's more healthy and 'good' counterpart. I find it hard to just accept the things I am angry about because I feel justified in my angers. Does this make them worse? Does sin become more of a sin when the one who commits it is fully aware and accepting of his sin? I don't believe in such things as sin but it is a great example to base emotions off of. I get feelings that the only ones I could possibly talk to are professionals but they are taught to be the way they are, to analyze people and match them up to well.. Something that will help them figure out what is wrong with said person. I don't know if something is wrong with me. Right and wrong has become so blurry. I know how to be good to people and how to be bad to people but so many things about life feel so wrong.

My drive to write is finally starting to die out a little bit, my ideas more blurred and my heart now resembles the embers from a flame. Still hot to the touch but no longer in a dangerous state. This isn't healthy, the more ash builds up the more of myself becomes buried under my emotions. How long before I become lost? Numb and or dull and dead...

I may not be man enough to hold back my emotions, but with that being said I am man enough to admit I am afraid, of me.