I have began to associate everything I do not like with my mother.
I hate her personality, I hate her modus operandi, I hate her selfishness, I hate the way she looks, I absolutely hate all her genetics and subsequently I hate everything in me that I presumably 'inherited' from her.
I think living with her, coupled with a detachment from my father (pretty much the only person I "love" or feel an 'otherwordly connection' to) has given me some serious psychological anomalies.
I definitely consider myself a sociopath, even though I am actively social, I absolutely loathe all societal structures, a feeling probably attributed to an overall disdain for the human race.
I feel she epitomizes what it means to be human, a consuming waste of material existence, purposely infused into a corporeal body and tricked into believing itself an individual, which then spends its "life" seeking out 'avenues of experience.' Shitty ones at that.
What I mean is that she gives things away because it makes her feel good. I feel by living with her I have been able to 'divulge' the true nature of our species... Despite claims of benevolent generosity, the person giving still gives for the simple reason that it concurrently GIVES them pleasure, too.
Futhermore, she has 'exposed' me to the most human of traits exuding filth onto this Earth... bullshit, she's full of it.
Nothing could ever be her fault and she simply cannot be in the wrong. AHHH FUCK THIS BITCH. This is honestly how I feel, I hate her, I feel like she's never loved anything but herself, I feel like she ripped away the pretty aesthetics of hope unveiling the true malignace of the Human world when I was really young.
I am constantly reminded (or have consequently developed a alterated process for interpretation) that I am not welcomed...
I feel... like a weed.
I feel like most people are ornamental plants, nurtured, watered, fertilized and marveled at.
I feel like I was tossed aside from the beginning, to grow in a different region of the garden... I feel like it was expected I would not make it. But I did, and now I feel like a hardy, spine covered weed in everyone's garden.
And now it feels like my parents are suprised... but displeased, as well.
"Our son is a weed." (Metaphorically mental composition, not a reference to bodily growth)
So now I have a distinctive way of thinking, which receives praise... but that praise seems to be covered in astonishment and fear (praise from my mother, at least). Like...
'I can't believe he turned out like this,'
As if she knows she fucked up early on... that she somehow hampered my development, and now she is suprised I turned out relatively 'smart.'
And now she, and correspondingly, quite a lot of other people, are afraid of my mental disposition.
I have a strong tendency to dominate arguments, that said, any arguments which I consider 'lost' --in the sense that my points were not properly received by the other parties in contention-- can usually be attributed to me going 'too-far' in the presentation of information helpful to my expostulation. (A good example would be the mechanisms of tryptamine-based psychedelics in the brain, which usually is initiated by the other party saying something like, "LSD causes your brain to fry," and usually concluded with me stating the processes of serotogenic agonists binding to selective 5HT sites, and lack of conclusive evidence indicating some residual encephalic damage.) Or, as it often occurs, the ambagious context (overly wordy)of my arguments simply are not effective on a group which cannot distinguish what you're trying to say (most of my friends are teenagers or young adults). --And all this, comes from a need to prove my worth in something, in some area, I need to prove I am not malformed, quite the contrary, I feel compelled to show that certain regions of my being may, in fact, be superior in development. All my personality, my indentity, my intelligence... is just compensation for my feelings of malformation... of pointless, perhaps even comtemptible existence. This said existence, brought into nascence by my Goddamned Mother.
This inability to 'communicate' or 'connect' with anyone only further perpetuates my deviation from the norm.
I'm 18, I 'should' be out getting wasted at parties with the hopeful prospects of hooking up with some confused hot girl who has successfully inebriated herself to the point of unscrupulous horniness.
Is it weird... that an exchange of numbers from the opposite sex usually occurs after they mention a desire to exchange numbers? Shouldn't it be the other way around?
I think my matriarchal hatred is beginning to have serious implications on my 'sex life,' or just interaction with the opposite sex in general.
Of course, in my eyes, most women, or more appropriately, teenage girls are drama-mongering emotion whores who console their 'hardships' by drinking and partying.
Something my mom did, and something I associate with my "malformation." And something I consider a greater association to the malformation of society as a whole. (The statement of 'hardships' connotes a strong image in my mind, self-perpetuation of problems, a need to 'sedate' these problems and a consequent arrival of more 'problems,' without effectively eliminating the first problem because in effect, it didn't really exist in the context you 'allowed' it to exist. And now the subject has 'real' problems.)
Right now I am torn in half...
Part of me wants to completely detach from humanity, and only show correlation where absolutely needed for my own survival... feelings indubitably driven by a 'belief' that I may be the result of a mutation within the human genome, and thus... just maybe, the first of my own kind. Meaning: I am either to spend my life as a sterile transient, just a random mutation meant to experience life through a unique perspective then die, completely by himself... a subspecies.
OR: I am supposed to monopolize biological technologies and, working with my own DNA, make modulations in creating a new organism. Then create a viral infection to whipe out the current stock, and repopulate with my new stock of Human specimens.
Part of me 'realizes' where these thoughts come from, and 'realizes' that I could overcome them, and commence a re-introduction into society, with the hope that, because of my differences in mental temperament, I could help to 'install' new procedures which will benefit the entire 'life network' on Earth, not just 'advancements' in the feasibility of life for humans.
When I think of doing the latter, a pleasant chill pervades my body... as if telling me, "this is the one." This split in mental preference probably came about from use of psychedelics, so essentially I do think in my case, that psychedelics are making me a 'better person,' in a subjective sense.
Anyways that's a lot of shit to post, and I doubt it will be read but I feel better having posted it nonetheless... I'm sure I'll have many additions to make to this as time progresses...
And I don't hate my mother as much as I did 15 minutes ago, isn't expression a wonderful thing? 
At least she doesn't get on my ass for using drugs.
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