Entry 4: Misanthropy

I didn't choose misanthropy, misanthropy chose me. 

I used to care. Some would often say I cared to much, and I agree. I often speculate if I'm born with an inert mechanical reflex to constantly please people and wanting to eliminate their problems, or if it's a result of environmental factors. My guess is that it's a bit of both. Problem is that I do not want to please people, I hate people if I'm honest. They're stupid and sensitive and weak and I don't want to associate with stupid and sensitive and weak minds. And yet, something deeply rooted inside my bones screams at me that I have to be liked and adored by everyone, I have to please everyone, I have to be everyone. 

Being everyone is exhausting I tell you. I don't have a path of my own, everything is dictated by others and what they think of me and my actions and I am so f*****g sick of it. 

I'm done being everyone.