Feeling the rain

There had been a period of at least five years where I had kept my feelings on the inside regarding the college hate crime I suffered, and that was after being insulted and discarded by friends, who all thought I was overly complaining and mentally deranged.  I became afraid to speak about it, and while thinking about it continuously, I kept my emotions aside from everyone and stopped socializing with all the people that reminded me of the event.  I wanted to clear my head up.  I wanted to leave and come back with a measured distance to all these so called friends, explaining my core feelings, and what had upset me.  I was baffled and hurt, altogether becoming suicidal as to having to live and deal with a conspiracy out of college theatre, one people obviously deny to this day.

Though perspectively, they always touch base with me on the subject every time it comes up, as I am typified as always complaining about the same thing.  Nothing happened they say interruptively.  Nothing happened.  Though I am left with this notion of a tree falling in a forest, and I am wondering how I’ve come to learn of it. After hearing them speak, and being left with their opinion of my disconnected cognition, I knew they were assertively the problem.   I finally opened up to a friend of mine in 2012, though I was still terribly confused.  I felt no relief as to why I was still symptomatically suffering from severe stress, so many years after the conspiracy I hypothesize took place, and I was still just as upset about the betrayal I felt from the college acquaintances.  Does time move forward?  I am left with a police statement that it has been too long, and everybody might have moved on.  Might have..  Do I feel relief gauging my life into the unknown future considering my past?  No, I do not.

I take a certain fact into account; the accusation that I committed a terrible crime which never becomes specified.  In reality, I was told that I must atone for who I have upset.  Vaguely as it is introduced, I come closer to an understanding of what the meaning was behind my forced exit from theatre in this issue.

I was there.  I heard it.  I upset someone or some group.  And this was before I rejected their blame and stole money from them.  It's cause enough, that certain people within the educative structure are making money from student acting, that it would only be fair to contravene that the money was mine and rightly earned!  To this day, certain social figures are still slandering my name based on this account of theft, claiming I had taken advantage of a charitable organization.  There are too many issues that come back to me from the past.  There are too many people who are upset or hateful towards me for my actions that had occurred out of controversy.

If you sit down and sort this out, the way I have, whether I am right or wrong about my theories; you can expect that society has an issue with me.  If I am delusional, and spinning webs that misconstrue reality while tarnishing reputations with my literary assault, is there any relief in disregarding my cognition?  There shouldn't be.  People continually revert back to me to find understanding with a large social event, that(like it or not) is about me.  Maybe not listen to me?

Yes. I stole money. Yes. I last proved myself a poor actor. No. I am unaware that I had committed a crime, and no, I was never told as to why I was disallowed from performing in theatre.  These segmented sentences create a thought process for me, that validates a timeline of depression in my life.  I feel as though something greatly impactful and detrimental may have happened outside of my perception, and it is this event that people are using to vindictively disregard my cognition.  If it were a big enough lie, would it not make me crazy?

I feel as though people are too ambitious in asserting my lack of performance, and that they are advantage seeking when they make claim of my stressed nature and unenergetic state, as being disposed of for defunct or unintelligent thought process.