God, what is wrong with me?
I’m so jaded from the rejection. No matter what I do, I can’t squeeze myself into these boxes of acceptable emotion. My sadness spills out and rips everything apart. God knows how I’ve gutted myself. How I’ve tried to cleanse and purge and cleanse and purge; seeking redemption in the cycle. I know it should hurt, that the burden of pain carries meaning, that it harbors purpose.
But I can’t take it. It feels like love has been murdered by vindictiveness, obsession, and indecision.
Love is dead.
I buckle too easily and my feelings are beyond fickle. I want to claw into my chest, shred the prison flesh, and tear my heart out.
Donnie Darko (2001)
Pure Ultraviolence 