I compare myself to the best. I find myself denigrated. I compare myself to the worst. I still see myself as pitiful. My blazing ignorance does not allow for me to see any good within. I’ve noticed I’m very toothsome, but I see no splendiferous traits in me. I know my words are quite mellifluous and various personas find me bodacious. Yet, I find myself kismet to descending awry. All this self-deprecation causes a fissure in my soul. All the malevolent thoughts seep in and make my soul go blotto off of negativity. All this salient negativity brings my future to a myopic end. I have vehement feelings of penance.
From the fattest kid in school, to the little-tiniest, they’re all better than me. I have the self-image of Lucifer. He knows his end is coming soon. Jehovah god will obliterate him soon, so I bet Lucifer wakes up every morning, looks in the mirror and wretches. I do the same. My body is better than most people. My style is fancier than anyone at my school. My face could possibly pass as that of a model. I know this, but I don’t believe or feel it. I have vehement, putrid feelings against myself. No matter who it is that I’m looking at, I can’t help but realize everything that’s better about them compared to me. I consider myself the smallest of the little-tiniest. To me, my body seems flimsier than flimsiest flimsy that ever flimsied. Even with more expensive clothes than everyone else, I still feel like that one kid looks way better in basketball shorts. Even with defined muscles, the kid who’s underweight and carrying %10 body fat looks better than me in my eyes. Everyone does. I categorize myself as the scum of the Earth. I vehemently despise myself. I suppose I’m working on that.