highway to hell... of some sort or another

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished me to the Sixth Level of Hell - The City of Dis! Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Moderate
Level 2 (Lustful)	Moderate
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	High
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	High
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	Very High
Level 7 (Violent)	Moderate
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	Moderate
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	Moderate

Take the Dante's Inferno Hell Test

Disorder	Rating
Paranoid:	Low
Schizoid:	Moderate
Schizotypal:	Moderate
Antisocial:	Low
Borderline:	Low
Histrionic:	Low
Narcissistic:	Low
Avoidant:	High
Dependent:	Low
Obsessive-Compulsive:	Moderate
-- Personality Disorder Test -- -- Personality Disorder Information --

fear the path to the dark side is...

i'm two steps away from the dark side. fear the path to the dark side is. fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side. i am in the anger phase. just like a venomous snake has a pouch of poison that keeps itself supplied, ready for the next and next time the snake will choose to strike - whether in attack or defense - i seem to have a self-refilling reserve of anger.

and i just realised its coming from fear. a fear so deep and concealed, and perhaps so part of my (first or second) nature, that its direct connection to my occasional outburst of anger mostly eludes me. but outbursts just turn themselves into yet another source of fear.

i find outlets. otherwise it'd just pile inside of me until it poisoned my mind beyond my bearing point. the other choice is letting it off on others, which i resent. and while i mostly consider my anger justified (which is a presumably a thing that all tyrants do), i do not like it. i'm a control freak. i don't want my anger controlling me, my thoughts, my words, my actions. i resent it as much as any other thing i cannot control.

losing control does not feel safe, thus it is to be feared. the satisfaction of beating the odds, of living up to uncontrollable situations is outweighed by... fear. if i am to ever change, it is fear i must overcome first - the root of all evil.

ps: pic is cover art of iron maiden's fear of the dark.

for lack of something else....

actually, there are quite a few things i meant to write about. some of them i thought not worthy getting more annoyed over (or giving them a tinge of eternity by outting them down in writing, lol), others... well, forgive me, i just did not want to share. so here is this darn thing that goes round the net:

i am: at war with myself and the world
i want: to be left alone most of the times; to be loved sometimes. that and world peace :)
i wish: to make peace with myself and learn to love myself
i hate: waking up early, being noticed, being yelled at and taking the blame. especially for others.
i miss: being unaware
i fear: choking on my own feelings
i hear: a quiet song in my head and the constant sound of the stream flowing all around my shell
i wonder: at the lengths some people would go to attract attention
i regret: letting myself go
i am not: half as good as as i wish, half as bad as some think
i dance: only when i feel naughty :->
i sing: dreadfully, so i refrain; except at concerts, then it’s top of my lungs and a cathartic thing
i cry: mostly at night
i am not always: able to stop myself getting angry at people who are not worth the bother; willing to justify myself.
i made: too many commitments, i think at times. but as yet, i cope
i write: preferably in black ink; poetry and rants to cleanse my system of toxines; i call them my intellectual wastes
i confuse: people around me with my mood swings and internet users about my gender through my nickname :)
i need: a stronger will and… something else
i should: get a grip on myself
i start: taking steps toward my goal (the how many-eth time?)
i finish: a coke bottle really quick :)
i tag: whoever feels like it.

war

i had almost forgotten the emotional charge of crying. amazing how much energy it consumes. still, it bears no relief. the tears, instead of cooling the down the inner turmoil, are like drops of acid rain: eating me up even more. crying as a therapy never works for me. instead of getting some sort of precare peace, all i end up with is read swollen eyes and a stubborn headache that goes away neither with pills, nor sleep. plus the trouble in the morning of caching it somehow to avoid stupid questions.

some day, i think i will simply tear in two. there is no sign of a truce. the me who loves me and the me who hates me wedge war an the me who loves me is slowly but steady losing ground. it is a calm, soothing, dignified me and it was not made for war. it is weary and receives but feeble support. the me who hates me... i wish it were violent, blind hate. it would be bound to make a mistake at some point. instead, it is cold and calculated, the hate stemming from steely scorn and contempt. it is coldblooded but when given the opportunity, it strikes with precision and fierce thirst. it takes no prisoners.

and me... i am hurled up in a corner like a frightened child. i hold a torn teddy in a frantic sweaty grip. i tried screaming, but no sound comes out. i am reduced to silent, uncontrolled sobbing while watching a twilit smoking battlefield that is my soul. shreds, pieces and bits of it hang around limply. and all i want is to close my eyes and make it all go away and feel safe and warm and cuddled. sometimes i even manage. until the next scream errupts and i widen my eyes in fear.

ps: click on image for link to original context on deviantart.com