Do you ever have those deeply introspective moments in life where you put that imaginary mirror up to yourself and take a good, long, hard look at yourself despite the fact that you already know what you're going to find there?

I do. I seem to do it all the time, all too often. Then again, given what I find, once would have been way more than enough.

I don't like me. Hell, that may have just been the understatement of the last few centuries. President Bush is an incompetent fucktool, Josh hates himself, who knew?!? I hate myself, I loathe myself.

I fully realize that it sounds oh so overly dramatic of me to openly proclaim this for all of you, my friends here, to read it but fuck me i've got to have some sort of release sometime, right? If you have one of those awkward, "oh fuck, I don't know what to say about this" sort of moments then please, feel free to say nothing, i'm not writing this for sympathy, i'm writing it in the sincere hope that it keeps my head from exploding.

Fuck it.

Each and every time I look at myself in that mirror all I ever see is a monster. Liar. Betrayer. A lifetime misspent and thrown away. Murderer and fool. Just smart enough to realize that i'm too God damned stupid to ever make it at anything other than who and what I am. Nothing.

Am I feeling sorry for myself? I wish I could honestly say that is the way I feel, or have felt, but it isn't. I feel like it's the truth, the real, honest, unadulterated truth of it all.

I'm looking at my profile picture as I type this and I want to break my own face. I feel bile rising up my stomach and into my throat. I am the anti-narcissist. The smile turned upside down.

What do you do whenever you can't stand to be around yourself? I've often wondered about that one.

No answers, never any answers, just more questions that you never wanted to give life to in the first place but rose of their own accord and burst through your mind like some sort of God damned monster movie zombie or some shit and all you're ever left with is the night, the darkness, and your guilt.

Guilt. It's built up in my chest, and my heart, and my mind like some sort of cancer that's eating not at the physical but at the mental and emotional.

What do I do? Where do I go? I don't know. I'm trapped in Hell of my own making. That's maybe the worst part of it all, everything about me that is rotting out the soul of me, I did it all to myself.

Yeah, I fucking hate me, and if you weren't all hundreds of miles away, if you ever really got to know me, then you might hate me too. Hell, I know i've given at least one or two of you enough reason for it.

Am I feeling sorry for myself? No. I'm feeling sorry for anyone and everyone who's unfortunate enough to be in any way in my life.