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The Autumn Woods
A diverse story driven blog that aims to keep entries short and sweet. From bitter romances, to dark horror, it will come together, slowly but surely.
It seems like no matter what you do, there is no escaping a decision... that someone has made...is that the right way to describe it? When people look for patterns in things! That is what I meant to think of. A tabulation of every single known scenario, run through some sort of simplified checklist, negating individuality... yet why be so obsessed with individuality in the first place? I suppose that every strives to have a niche... are quirks just subtle anomalies? Is that all there is?

These questions are pointless because I have decided to no longer live in that realm of life. Death is a suitable end because it ceases all problem and dilemma, and solves all of my biggest qualms in a single, definitive case. The afterlife has become more important to me than anything else in the world. It is the ultimate betrayal to existence. Even as young and naive as I am, I prefer my own intuitions than seeking guidance.

I dislike people. It is because I see the pattern they follow, the off putting trend that sets them down among the others... but not to compartmentalize anyone... I understand that nobody is truly...just what you think they are. I've considered a more likely idea. That people aren't designed to coincide, or what doctors would call, being social creatures. I feel that people are designated to collide. It proves results. The biggest flaw is the system of...emotions fighting logic, and the inverse as well. Why? Because whatever drives logic is a type of emotion. In the end, chaos has no fear, it is natural to thrive, so it doesn't worry about order.

So what? I can't change my presets. But I am blatantly aware of a number of things concerning this. The first is that I didn't put those presets there. When I look in the mirror I suddenly feel disgusted. A product of dissatisfaction because I don't look good? No. Even by the standards of my peers, my looks are satisfactory enough. I am disgusted by my existence because I am the offspring of two people I don't exactly feel connected to. Young animosity? That stage has passed already... and it wasn't even that strong. No, the older I get, the more I realize how little I want to do with my family and friends. It wasn't trigger by any event... I wonder where it came from.

Denial is often ridiculed by people. You can't deny what you are, or how you feel, they say. But I wonder where the illusion is? Is the illusion inside, and denial is wrong, or is there truly a separation between what is being denied, and the denier?

A long time ago... there was a love interest. Love out of desperation is instant failure. I didn't see it. But when I was done... my hands were shaking. I found that... I was not what I was. I discovered a part of me that had been buried on the illusion of who I was. At the core of who we are...our initial subconscious self...I found something delicate, and I died.

It was time for me to start living through me, instead of as... this abomination created by two people I don't even know. I don't understand personally. As far as I know, one doesn't suddenly find a complete disassociation from their parents in an instant. Hardly a common reason for breaking away from a failed relationship. They didn't even know it had happened. The two seemed entirely unrelated in my mind. I began to wonder about the mind... it brings me back to separation...

I can't control how I feel, how things taste, how I grow... all I am really is plugged into some sort of... biological body. Am I like a vegetable? Grown in this strange inhabitable land? Or was I existent before this, and now tethered to some pathetic creature until it's natural life comes to an end? When I peer through my eyes... I feel this sudden lurch... as if I am repulsed by the fact that I would even be here.

If my feelings are reactions that I can't control...how does it react to itself?

I'll leave it at that for now.

Persephone Autumn
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