What I'm Not

I am far away from the one I love? Why? Well I suppose that is what I will be writing about. It actually starts farther back. It is something I am very not found of. The very reason I am away is because I trusted. Because I loved. You may say there must be something much more to it then that. That really can't be it all. Yes, that may possibly be true. There is always more to a story. Nothing is as simple as we would like. Now I hate. I was forced to be someone and something, that just isn't true. My life, in the aspect of breathing or waking to another beautiful sunrise. Yet what purpose is there in enjoying just lovely things when you feel a taint. When you know that no matter what, there is nothing to hope for, for the better. Damages done. Darkened. Bitter. I can feel the cruel evil oozing through my body. Almost comforting, a comfort that brings with it a sickness. Cruel nausea. So hear I sit typing to you separated from my beloved for the holidays. Which in note seem far from important. Celebrations just seem like a sad reminder of what was. So I hate the fucking bitch you considered herself far above all us peons. Yes, and the little club of perverted old bastards. How I pity them. They have suck ugliness. Just contempt. Sigh, I do not wish to be like that which has corrupted my light, my soul. So now I am learning to be what I am not.