I often wonder why I am in this world, why I am able to affect everything around me, why I am allowed to live.
In my entire life I had people disregard me, treat me with indifference and hatred. That made me who I am today: a dumpster fire that needs to be put out.
No matter how much I work towards being good to those around me, to be the opposite of those who mistreated me in the past and those who still disrespect me today, I never can achieve my goal; after all, a dumpster fire is still a dumpster fire no matter how you try to prettify it.
I’ve too much blood on my hands to say I am a good person. I did more harm than I am willing to admit, and a good part of it was intentional, which makes things even worst. Knowing the harm I am capable of doing to someone scares me, and the worst thing about being a dumpster fire is that the damage is uncontrollable.
I’ve hurt people I love for just being who I am. I’ve hurt people I love just by trying to be happy. I’ve burned so many people who got too close that I lost count.
I can’t actually see a way out or a way to move forward without putting out the dumpster fire.
