1419: Diner De Scamp

I am tired of superhumans
Only it isn't their fault.

They aren't really more special than anyone else
It is only that I am less

~

1. Here we go, writing more words to you; I knew it. Since the moment I thought 'I should write another entry,' I knew somehow I would point myself to you. Getting to the point, here's what I said to you; Here's what I said almost a month ago. 'I am not scared of how perfect you are.' Yes, it feels encouraging to make progress, to advance, to look at certain failures as they get smaller behind you; Only now it feels like I have not grown here, that I am the same bonehead with the same exact problem. Truth is, I am indeed scared of how perfect you are. It is starting to bite me again. And I just don't get it, I don't feel like I can take it any longer. Why do these people exist. Why are there superhumans? Why are there people who could crush us with their hands just because they wanted to? Or the real question is, when did you get here. Did you cheat in the race? When did you decide that people such as Myself would be left behind, and occupy your rearview mirror, elicit the arrogance and rejection that you have earned simply by being alive?

STOP being you

STOP telling me that I am less

You can't be this way, unless You say that I can come
For some reason, I remember being in Third Grade. And our teacher said, 'New Rule. If you hand out birthday invitations in class, everyone has to get invited. It is all or nothing. There is no in-between.' This is a brutal over-simplification for a lot of dumb kids; Except do you not see the principle?

STOP being better or STOP telling me that I was not invited
Stop trying to have it both ways!!

If your world is really full of monsters, those arrogant sex comets which think I am a fly, why live here? It has been a long time since those nightmares from last year, when I was teetering on the exit of life; I don't think I am going back there. Only now I remember. I see again how strange it is that Life has to continue, and that a fly like me can't save himself the trouble. Can't swat myself. Have to wait for the big, bad humans to do it. Have to endure the big, bolshy picture where humans will kill me in the end. After a really long time

1. I thought I would say things to other people, ones beside you. Only I guess you really symbolise this. Symbolise the species that I will never get? What if I asked you? Explained to you for once, that you and I are ridiculously similar, and that I deserve a club membership, too? Well it would run through the sewer, the pipeline of gossip, and of incredulous texts, 'No, stop,' and 'You're out of your mind,' and 'Can you believe what he tried to tell me?' ~ ~ ~

Have you ever seen a movie where the main character knew something? Knew that the world was going to explode? that the bad guys were coming? where the treasure was? And no one believed him? And you're sitting there, like, 'You idiots, believe him. believe him!! believe him!!!'

I think I know what it feels like to be that guy