From 2012 till 2015, I maintained a private blog called My Candid Chronicles. I started it as a way to track the progression of my illness, and had no intentions on releasing it. A vast majority of these entries were written in Las Cruces, with a couple of them written in Meridian, and a small handful written in Atlanta, specifically the final entries. I just simply forgot about it, but I might start it back.
I’m about to showcase a piece from the blog. It was written on December 16, 2012, and posted at 4:33 AM Mountain Standard Time. I hope everyone gets and understand this piece.
Going to bed now. Have a good night. I’ll see y’all later. Fell free to comment,
I’m not perfect. I wish I was. But I’m not. But then again, it’s a good thing that I’m not, because then I could never improve. I think a lot of people are working too hard towards perfection. Ironic for someone of my personality to say that, but I truly feel that way. Perfection is an impossible and very unrealistic goal to reach. Instead, why don’t we just set the bar for improvement?
I’m not normal. I don’t want to be normal. But the truth is, nobody is normal. Normal is an artificial idea created by societies; which were, in turn, created by abnormal people. I don’t like when I hear people say that just want to be normal. I used to say that, until I realized that normal doesn’t truly exist. I don’t like when people tell other people to act normal, because very people who orders people to be normal don’t have an idea what normal is. That’s because normal doesn’t exist; it was implanted in our heads by abnormal people trying to influence the thoughts and behavior of other people.
All I really want is my health, and at least the chance to improve myself so I can be closer to perfection; a goal that is unrealistic and will never be reached as long as I’m alive in this form. I want people to support me and appreciate me; because even though I can make it on my own, it’s good to know that I have people rooting me on.
But nobody knows what’s going on with me. Nobody understands. I can talk about myself and my issues till I’m blue in the face; people will never get it and will judge me based off of it. But it’s okay. I learned a long time ago that I was not created for the mere pleasure of other people. I was created in order to live a life, my own life.
I’ve lost a lot. But I still have my dignity. That’s something that I will never let go, no matter what happens in my life. It’s something that I will take with me to the grave.