Fog

I guess with my loud and happy exterior, it would be difficult to imagine that someone like me would hate myself. In fact, I feel I am a blank canvas needing people to paint colors onto me. While my tattoos are of things I like and hold meaning to, I honestly feel like me loving the tattoos on me in turn translates to me loving myself. "Now I can like myself more because there is something to like myself for", something like this. That's why shallow relationships also matter to me. Casual flirting, casual sex, these make me feel that I do hold some value, albeit shallow. That there exists the hope that for others, they are able to see something good about myself that I don't, makes me a less floaty. Like the thick fog I'm lost in clears up just a tiny bit and a little more sun shines through during hopeful brighter moments as such. 

If I were to diagnose myself, I think this self-loathing really started from my dad's passing, coupled with my only breakup, not helping that it was super ugly amidst an already ugly situation. Not an understatement to say I've broken for good I suppose. Ha ha ha. Emotionally detached and seeking false validation for shallow reasons, man I am a right foul mess. My life and I wasn't always this meaningless and boring, at least I can say for sure, not while I was still happy with my dad around. Now, my dad just exists as the fog that's always weighing over me. Don't get me wrong, I am in no way blaming my dad. If anything, I blame myself because it is with his passing that all my past mistakes and regrets in life come to light.