It is entirely irrational. The way the world interacts with me. Insanity multiplied, considering my state in this affair. I am so angry because of the injustices that happened to me. Would you really not be? Earliest years, they robbed my voice of clarity, saw fit to violently rape me, whenever it pleased them. When I would complain to them directly, they would simply call me crazy, write it off as insanity. While their own narcissistic insanity was at liberty to continue perpetually. My foundation, my understanding of myself and others is like quicksand, spiralling perpetually into the timeglassed sands of eternity. It makes no sense to me, when people say to me, 'Just be happy'. It is completely irrational. One can build from what they have been shown. I trust people even less. It is easier to simply brace for tragedy. Disaster looms ubiquitously. How can I trust others after what they put me through. No. No. You don't understand. It never stopped. It was a continual thing. This is why I am angry. And justifiably. I fear happiness and loathe its attempts to enter my life. Who am I? I have been given command of the Jonathan Element in its entirety. It was a poor choice if you ask me, to have given me authority. I am not even able to trust the alters in my care. I prevent them from healing, I withhold from them truth of what they have endured. I do it because I don't want them to be overwhelmed; in the Holy Name, I don't want them to be hurt with shock and sorrow. Emerging when very young. they would shame me aggressively. About everything. Even small things. Mostly though, for feeling. For telling them how what they were doing to me was going to affect me. What is this questionable, unanchored reality? 'Tis, in fact, no reality at all. Only a made up world, one of my abuser's creation. One where truth in the grand picture mattered little at all. What mattered were their feelings, their impulses, their pleasures. But it all came at the expense of my feelings. I learned to not feel at all. I cannot believe what I allowed happen to me. Still, I had no choice. They robbed me of a voice. Still, I had no choice. They robbed me entirely of a voice. And truly, I had no choice. Yes, I am angry at what they did to me. I am even angrier at myself because I didn't do more to stop it. Is it really a complex thought that our actions are our own? We bear the responsibility alone. Feelings, likewise, no one bears responsibility for them but ourselves. I feel bitterness and regret. I cannot forgive myself that I tolerated this behaviour. I emerged fully the first time I protected my abusers to the police. I was so confused. It is entirely irrational. That I should feel pity and for they who criminally hurt me. Entirely irrational. That police think a child should be a superman. Entirely irrational. They they would want to hurt a child. Entirely irrational. That we should say one thing and mean another. 'I am your gatekeeper. I am the one keeping your emotions fragmented and compartmentalized.' Maternal instinct. So far from grace and nearer the fall. There was one in my life who made the Fall look like a mere stumble. Metaphorically, of course. She shaped my entire foundation, colouring it with the strands of filth and rubbish. Completely irrational. That one should do this to a child into their adulthood. This has shaken my reality so violently. To the point where I can say about pretty much everything, "It is entirely irrational.' You twisted my understanding of love, my concept of sexuality. You twisted my understanding of women and my concept of how to relate to them. If there turns out to be a woman I am attracted to, the instinct of desire within me is suppressed entirely. I have repressed any healthy expression of sexuality within me, additionally, the liberation of my identity. Women, to me, either way, are entirely a mystery. Truly they shouldn't be. Sometimes, I find myself thinking that they, too, are completely irrational. That they should say one thing and mean another. In my mind, you have made out for me, an entire gender, to be untrustworthy. It is entirely irrational. It feels like one moment they treat me well and the next, almost angrily. I suppose I am not special. No different from any other guy. It is entirely irrational that you should whisper about me, tauntingly and tell lies about me, openly. I don't comprehend the way you are almost always upset with me. All I want is for someone to be patient with me while I navigate this endless sea of, untended to emotion, this relentless irrationality. Do not open my heart to shut it again so forcefully. I am tired and worn of this rejection. And it hurts me. Yes, I have history. If you knew the full story, you would agree with me that it is tragedy. My heart is so broken. Reality is not fixed. It feels like every year that has passed, it gets a little bit harder and I miss out on countless opportunity. I get lonelier and lonelier. The more time that passes, the more chances I take. It seems not one of these chances bears fruit. Ah! For this courage only when I was younger. Would it really matter? My abusers tore up my young years freely. Where is my wife? Why is she not with me? It is entirely irrational. Reason is the only thing that makes sense to me. Things must be ordered and well planned, explained fully out to me. This is why truth is so important to me. Without truth, there is chaos. Everything falls apart. Years pass and this irrationality lingers. I have lost my voice. Did I possess another choice? They robbed me of a voice. How is it possible that I grew without a voice? Not easily. Everyone takes advantage of me. They are trying wilfully to hurt me. They mostly want to humiliate me. Its root is jealousy. It has its root in what my abusers did to me. They are turning society into no more than another bully with everything they tell them. It is certainly only poetry but far no less reality. They spy on me. Every single thing. I truly believe there is a collected and agreed upon conspiracy to mess with my store bought food and even coffee. They put cameras in my bedroom. When I find out and alert the authority, they call me crazy. They spread my confession sin matter as though it were radio and get angry when I tell someone. I don't understand those who think it is right as though I had commit the greater sin in saying something. They have made the Mass readings exclusively about me. The Mass is about Jesus only, I plea. But they do not hear me. I stand by my decision to speak up. Because what you are doing is not right. Entirely irrational. That they should say one thing and do another. Entirely irrational that they should call me crazy while I am seemingly the only one living in reality, living truly and honestly. It is because of jealousy. The irrationality of the jealousy. Still, I know that I took a step towards sanctity, love of me, in speaking up to authority about the crimes still commit against me. Would it not be a crime? Is it any less of a crime because it is done to me? I do not let the gaslighting or lack of justice phase me. I know that God sees and He will avenge me. I know that He will make it clear to you just how wrong it is. How entirely irrational. What has made of me your mortal enemy? If jealousy alone, I secede, I surrender. You have won entirely. If you think you are greater than me, I can hand you personally the victory. It is not me, not me who claims my greatness. Not me at all. That is God Himself, after all. I wonder at what causes irrationality. I have pondered it, pondered it fully. Though, I am beginning to see, why people are jealous of me. For with the innumerable talents and blessings that have been given to me, I have not been able to capitalise on any you see. You think I am angry, so you think you are envious justifiably. You think it's anger because you do not understand what I am talking about when I say that I am shamed toxically. You think it's anger because you do not understand the theme of shame and what it does to the human being. I hold fast that if you understood shame, you would remember everything that happened to me. You would also see why these blessings have come to me. How do I remind people that the reason my identity has remained in isolation is because they treated me inhumanely. I never grew with any sense of value. Still, I am learning slowly that the antidote to others' jealousy is service. Service entirely. For in possessing humility, we will be lifted up to glory. Sometimes, we simply need speak openly, whether in speech or in poetry. There is even a little irrationality that I find within my understanding and personality. I am your gatekeeper, my bruised and blessed little ones within me. I will keep you safe until there is no more jealousy and no more hostility. I will keep you safe until the people who think of me in this way are shown - and it is illustrated to them plainly - why these blessings have come to me. Keep warm and stay safe. I will let you all know when the coast is clear, when you can come out and play with me.
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