Filling my heart with love is hard. Positivity was stomped out of me at a young age. If I said anything was cool or beautiful I would have that crushed out of me by my family. My sister learned faster than I did, she became a very cloystered but superficially social person. Much like her father. No personal information beyond the mundane was to be shared, no feelings beyond the appropriate. She even says she has no memory of significant life events, or any inner dialogue. All, I believe, an attempt at maintaining a level of privacy, all lies, told with a straight face and a practiced sincerity, a practiced sincerity I recognize because I grew up with her, I saw her fresh before she had that joy crushed out of her by our loving family. Unlike her I never figured it out until my opportunities for life had dried up, I never learned to keep myself secret, at the cost of my soul, and so I was labeled, and I was targeted, and I was cast out. I didn't understand lots of things, I didn't understand why I had to go to a building full of strangers on a strange bus, I didn't understand why I had to write paperwork when I was still a child, I didn't understand why my mother hit me, or why my father played mind games with me, I didn't understand why my cousins humiliated me sexually, or why my mother didn't stop them while she watched, I didn't understand why my grandmother shoved her finger in my ass to "check for shit" in the trailer park, I just wanted to be left alone, and when I was left alone I just wanted someone there. I don't know if I'll ever have a relationship where I trust someone and they don't violate that trust. Life has shown me that it is about violations. When a being consumes matter, even if the matter is already dead, that is a violation, because it is taking the food away from another. You cannot escape it. I've know that my whole life, and people would look at me funny when I said so. I would say there's no such thing as friends, friends are just people that you use...even if it makes you feel good to be nice to them and nothing else, you are using them to feel nice. You can't help it. None of us can help it. Hunting, killing, eating, why? Because to go without it hurts too much, until the pain breaks us, or we break, and we die. That's what happens when you fast long enough. Death. And yet death is supposedly inescapable, I say so because I have never died. People I know have gone away, like they do when they leave a room you're in, but permanently. I suppose they have died, but I have no real proof. I suppose a lot of things with no real proof. But not enough. Not enough to live like everyone else. If you're a good person, and my words hurt you, I'm sorry to bring you down, but I can help it, that when you see my words you hurt. I'm sorry me existing hurts you.