When I really stop to think about it, I find it exceedingly amusing thinking how I became the person I did today. More so, what I mean is that I'm broken. My parents simply never could figure out how to raise children properly, more so I chalk it up to my dad's severe impatience. And thus, in the aftermath, stood myself, alone, as their only success. My half-brother was a problem, as is my sister. The irony to all this, of course, is that the only reason I turned out right was I was motivated to become the total opposite of my parents. Pretty amusing really, the the only reason I am who I am today is because I hated everything my father was. It was great motivation, at the very least.

I suppose with that said, I came out of it all relatively broken as a human being. I hate my family with a passion. Not even in an angsty teenage sort of way either. I quite seriously detest my family. Furthermore, I've ended up becoming somewhat sociopathic, if not extremely apathetic towards everything and everyone. To top it off, I have problems with depression and suicidal tendencies as well. I'm actually very surprised that I can even maintain healthy relationships with friends outside of my home. That, I still find, is a mystery in and of itself. A fortunate one, but one nonetheless.

Recently, I received news that one of my friends is likely dead; the victim of a fatal traffic accident. Having received said news, I really didn't know how to react. Chilling still, I don't think I even had a real reaction. If I said I did, then it was feigned in the moment. I didn't know whether to be sad, guilty, or anything else in-between so, by default, I felt nothing. I still feel nothing. I don't know how I should feel. I can still recall hearing of my grandmother's imminent death as a child and feeling very little in the way of emotion. This happened again when my last surviving grandmother died and I literally felt nothing. In-fact, I think I went out later that day and did my usual things.

The point I'm getting at, I suppose, is that for being strangely successful in life, I've gotten through said game as a broken character. Everything I ever did has been to the benefit of others and never to myself. My existence is akin to a marionette, with society pulling at my strings. The trials and tribulations of daily life are beginning to grate on my psyche. I'm tired of mediocrity and the mundane. What happens now is my feeble attempt at repairing myself, and one way or another I'll come out of this fixed or I'll spiral down into my own self-induced oblivion. Either is fine with me. I am not afraid to die.