disgustingly masturbatory self-loathing

this is ridiculous, this
capturing of emotion for the purpose of stimulation
creating a monster so i can destroy it
calmness was never my strong point. neither was
level-headed clear thinking, nor patience.
these must be worked at, and the working of it is
one of the most confusing experiences known to man.
am i right now? how about now? is
it over yet? what exactly is being gained by all this?
i have no idea, but i want to quit, to wad up my life
into a paper ball and toss it away. i feel god
but only when i'm chasing him, and sometimes
i get tired. where is he then?
fuck you, i say to myself. fuck you,
i say to that person sitting across from me
fuck you, i say, to no one in particular.
and where'd my superpowers go? i thought that
i was so awesome, that i could do anything. sure,
i can learn my lesson, and wait a little bit longer. but
what then? the next time this comes around,
it'll just be a little bit harder. my skin
will be a little bit thicker,
and it'll be a little harder to break into me.
but what's so great about that?
what's so great about doing this right?
my faith is unshaken-- i still see the light through this.
but why isn't the light now? and what's so bad about
just falling asleep for once?