Somehow, I feel utterly relieved, you know. Even excited and happy! Call me sadistic but yeah, even if I were, it’s justified! Go on, make it worse! Make it worse, faster! That way, I can kill this faster! So I won’t have to have that in my mind anymore, even if the size of it is decreasing each day. And I feel compelled to make the other party suffer. If you’re going to do this to me deliberately, you’re not going to get out of this unscathed.
You’re in deep shit (factors unrelated to me) and it seems like this is the only thing that’s yet to be deterministically screwd up for you. Why? Because I’m considerate. I tolerated so much shit under my breath for a long time. I thought your life sucked so bad already. And yet, you’re determined to screw this up as well. Why? Because you think that if you’re the one to screw this up, this aspect of your life won’t end up being screwd up. Because you chose this! Hurray. One small victory for you. Small. Very small. I over-estimated it from Day One. And I’ll never do that again.
But you know, it’s all your fault. Your screwd up life. I know now. It’s all because of your own doings. I don’t play small-fry. I don’t hunt for and settle for crumbs. I’m very serious and you’d better be Fucking clear who you’re dealing with. You’re not going to get what you want. You’re not going to get this together, neither are you going to get this apart. I’m not Free— in all meanings of ‘free’. I’m not free, I don’t have time to spare for shit. I’m not free, I am not even easily available. I’m not free, I’m governed. I’m not free, I’m occupied as I look forward to be occupied by something truly worthy. I’m not free.
I’m not free especially for endeavours which I feel I would have had a better time animal-talking to dogs. You’re worthless. I say this because you’re attempting to make yourself seem worthless. And you shall be. You’re also trying to tell me that I’m worthless. I am, was and will never be worthless. Not to myself, not to anyone, not to anything. Because of all other things, I don’t stay until ‘worthless’ is uttered. My meter for what is a valuable way to spend my life reaches the lower limit Way before that happens. I spend my life only in ways in which I will be valued.
I’m not a servant. I don’t serve your misery. I don’t serve your happiness by staying away as I am not required to be present when that happens. I don’t serve your 11th hour whims and fancies, nor your mistaken life-long longings which belong to the former instead. I don’t serve you bread which you will reject and hound after and fight tooth-and-nail for crumbs which others will offer instead. You see those as bread. You’ll finally realise and then you’ll tell me about it. Because you did before. But you, like almost everyone else but unlike me, don’t change. It’ll happen again and again. But I won’t serve any longer. I say, suit yourself.
5 days ago, I saw this quote from my quoteoftheday service. “Be a fountain, not a drain. – Rex Hudler” I’m a fountain. I live happily and for myself but I live generously. I don’t pine, I don’t chase, I don’t serve. But I freely give. If anyone wants to partake in and celebrate the joy of me being myself, come to the fountain and I’ll give based on the balance between what you want and what I can offer. More power to you. I’m delightfully irrelevant to those who want nothing to do with the fountain. If you don’t come, you don’t get.
It’s that simple.