as i delve deeper, looking towards the end of where this will all lead me. ive barly got my feet wet with my art, seeing how i want to draw alot of stuff, i mean things people wouldent normaly draw, the rare stuff that when you find your jaw drops from what ever feelings you have on it, im not a human.. i must be a monster. ive lived far to long in this way that the basic social situations are a mystery to me now. there was a point in time where i did have someone to look up too, someone that could guide me on the ways of the world and spiritualy lift me. but i left that becouse i missed home, but who knew home would have me this way..

im a fucking loser, i know this.. im not human.. im not anything. i prolly dont even exsist at all, and my attemts to leave something behind in this world that people can see i fear will not be enough. ive been unemployed for a good 4 -5 years now, ive no concept of time, things in my life seem a blur and every breath i take it seems is a wast of energy.. this isent a cry for help, this isent a suicide note.. this is me expressing myself.

i dont know how long i can last like this.. i need to take more chances, i need hope.. but my faith in all things has been torn asunder in choas which ive created. being alone for soo long, can warp a mind, with out the basic human contact.. like a hug.. or even a handshake, it can leave a person broken perhaps just like me.. this situation ive had for as long as i can remember since i was young.. but the reason why i hurts soo much now, is becouse well ive had a taste of the world, atleast some of the better parts, partys money a life, a car that worked. after a year it was forfited to move back in with my parents. i did have a car for awhile but i dont have that now.. i can only depend on my parents for there cars or even my sister.

i cant even imagin what it must be like for people that have it worse off then i do. and im sure there are.. but from where i stand the way i see things my perception of my reality, this nonexsiting hell ive created, that i call home.. is unbearable at times..

and with out a outlet to spill this ever filling glass of thoughts it would surly swell then rupture, leaving me more broken.. no good can come from this im sure.

i am my own worst enemy, i am my own void, i am nouthing at all yet here i am. i dont excsist but here i am typing this out..

my rantings, i appologize.

-Synister Wrath