I'm tired
This post won’t probably be about the John Titor story. Well, not entirely but everything I post on here always has something to do with it. I want to write this openly and honestly because I am tired.
I feel a lot of pressure on me,
everywhere, pressure to be good, pressure to work hard and pressure to prove
anything I have to say. Every time I write here I have to make sure it is well
written (even though ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. Some people forget that),
make sure it has paragraphs, make sure it makes 100% sense (even though
sometimes I just simply want to pour my heart out) make sure I specify that I
have no proof, that it is something I feel or think, that there is nothing I
can do to prove anything. There are some days I just want to lay down and die.
There, this is how I feel. The reason why I write this here is because the “anonymity”
(I put this in quote because it may not be entirely true) allows me, to some
degree, to be honest. I cannot walk to people in my “real” life and tell them
this. I cannot say anything not because of some sort of “secrecy”, but because
this is plain crazy. Even to me. I can only post and suffer in silence whilst I
try to hold onto whatever bit of sanity
I have left, and trust me, it’s not much.
Let me ask you something, and I
hope you can stop your video games for a minute and think about this: don’t you
think that I would also love to be able to prove to everyone beyond any reasonable
doubt that what I think or guess is actually true? Don’t think I would love to
do that? But I can’t because I have no way or mean to do that. Yet you bash me
like this is my fault, like the expectation is for me to come on video and
prove to you the existence of John Titor and the entire story. How is this fair
on me? True enough, I do come up and say what I think but I believe it is very
clear that all I say is just all I can offer. There is nothing more I can
offer. I am human and I’m tired, I’m just tired. I am tired that I can’t be
honest with the people I know, that I cannot tell the world how I feel and that
I cannot speak to the single most important person I would love to speak to. I
am tired. During week days, 90% of my time is spent working, 5% thinking about death
and the other 5% thinking about him. I think about him every day and his
thought is the only light that guides me forward. Go ahead and bash me for
saying this out loud but I HAVE TO because I’m tired of hiding what I really feel.
I have been abandoned by the people involved in this story and they just left
me alone with all of this and I’m scared and tired. I’m just so tired. I just close
my eyes and feel like I’m dying. I post on Reddit and I am forced to stay away
from the site because, every time I open that bloody app, all I see is insults,
bashing, and just pure HATE toward me. Fuck you, really, from the bottom of my
heart.
But yes, some people are also nice
and I wish I could be there for them and I wish I could be able to post for
them without encountering all of this unnecessary hate. And yes, I recognise
that some of those arseholes may NOT be American but the majority of the people
involved are American. Likewise, there are some of those nice people who are
American so yes, I cannot stereotype I agree and I’m sorry. But, again, I’m
just tired and feeling like I am breaking. I’m just breaking. This is my
personal space and I shouldn’t apologise to anyone over what I want to write,
simple as that. But I’m breaking. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing some good by
posting but apparently I am “persona non grata” in this story because I don’t
have these “credentials” that the original posters have. Like it was my fault
that I was 16 in 2000 and grew up in Italy and spoke ZERO English back then.
But okay, believe what you want to believe. I don’t have the credentials and I cannot
make them myself either. I’ll be damned for believing that my posts were making
a difference, when in reality I’m only stirring up hate. I love the story and
behind my posts there was nothing but that: love. Behind you and your posts, there
is nothing but hate.
Also, I know I shouldn’t be
stalking Nolan Bennett but I honestly cannot stop thinking he is him. I can’t,
I just feel it. I don’t know what it is, but I can just feel it. Obviously,
the one I would love to meet is the other one from “over there”. But still. I
dream of him so often. In the last couple of dreams he actually spoke to me, as
you may know already. He is always so quiet and so shy in my dreams, I don’t
know if this is the way he is in real life, but it certainly is the way he is
in my own dreams. I’m sorry about what I said in the past, I was wrong. I was
wrong to call him an arse and a liberal with no problems. I had no idea he
suffered such a terrible loss at such young age. I am sorry about what I said
and there is not one single moment I don’t regret it. I can feel his pain and
so wish I could just hold him tightly and tell him everything is okay because I
am here with him. But I can’t. All I can say, if he is reading this or if his
older version is reading this, is I’m sorry and know that I carry you in my
heart every single day and I will probably die without ever meeting you. I kind
of resigned to this thought. There is nothing I can do. I hope that he will
find some comfort knowing that there is another version of his friend, somewhere,
that is alive and happy and he may actually get to meet him again one day. I do
wish this for him, I wish it as hard as I can.
-
Stella (stellita884)
