life commentary, poetry, personal writings and photograpy

You're not that good.

You're being ridiculous, you're kidding yourself on so many levels. I've promised three different women I'd sex them up this weekend and I feel too shitty to even walk my dog. What the hell are you doing, anyway? While normals look for love, I look for its void. I feel flawed, I know where it is but I'm forced to ignore it. That's it, that's the one, but it's unobtainable. Meaning, that aspect of life and need is not a choice. Just go with life, it's fun emptiness. It's really no different than peaks and valleys of any existence. Pleasures, even brief, they are.

Why did I do that?

Typical. You knew better, you even promised yourself to never feel anything again because you know the result is bound to repeat. Well, brain, I told you so. I turned that shit back on for nothing. You've been reduced again. Broken down again. Lied and betrayed. Again. 
Fucking idiot.
I hate that putrid emotion again. It's useless anyway, a distraction of what is really important: my selfish pleasure and self made reality. 
I knew what I was doing but I had to feel. 
Foolish.
Feel nothing, be sick and sad only. You've lost and deserve such. 
So there it is.
Lost.
I don't miss "it".