[old draft] October 15th, 2018

This is a story of a young man named Charles.

Charles was a talented boy. He grew up innately understanding the intricacies of the people around him, even things they did not know about themselves. Unfortunately, Charles was born with a damaged father who depended his self-worth on being perfect in whatever he could be. Whenever Charles would talk about something he enjoyed or something he loved to do, his father would constantly shut him down with a glare or a one-liner that impeded all aspects of Charles’ ability to express himself. With an extremely protective but controlling mother, he was spared from the brunt of the trauma once it got too strong, but the damage was already done.

Charles had a troubling early life. He would constantly get into trouble with authorities, dropping out of school twice due to fights and misunderstandings, including a short stint in a juvenile detention facility. Throughout this time Charles did not know what he was doing wrong. He was simply going about his business in order to protect himself from feeling completely worthless. Thankfully, due to his innate ability to understand people along with his charm, he was unscathed from major physical damage throughout his journey in adulthood.

His sense of self-worth completely depleted, Charles began to act out in order to “find himself.” He joined a band that toured the country during his high school years, meeting people who felt similarly misfit in the world around him. He began abusing drugs in order to find a sense of happiness that he lacked in childhood. He grew close with people who were similarly abused in their childhood years, often discussing their shortcomings and how life was so “unfair,” how they deserved a better childhood.

He met several women, each wounded by their own scars, and had several flings that resulted in physical relationships that brought more troubles, eventually leading him to live a homeless life in the streets of New York. With great help from those he identified with who saw potential in him, he was persuaded to join college, to join the institution that buried him prior. With great hesitation he agreed.

Charles eventually found a home in journalism, where it seemed the authority figures were not necessarily those trying to demean and destroy them, but trying to understand where he was coming from. But even then something was a little off. Empty praises and over-approval of his work led to an inflation of his ego, even more than it truly was. He saw journalism for what it was: a tool to influence the people, which came as

But everything changed. Around this time was when Charles found a young woman. A young woman who had gone through similar troubles, who understood his pain. Who was able to see him for who he was, who did not try to control him but rather appreciate him for who he was. Who found the positives in the pessimistic nature that Charles had relegated himself into. Who helped him realize what was truly right and truly wrong in the world.

In a sense of desperation, Charles grew hopelessly attached to this young woman. He shared all of his secrets with her, in the hopes that she would do the same back. She was the savior, the person he needed to open his eyes. He spent all day and night thinking about this woman and doing odd things for her, expressing himself as much as he could in order to express the little bit of hope he still had. She was the first person he truly opened up to, and it made him feel alive, like life was worth living.

Things were going smoothly – at least in Charles’ eyes, the smooth but dramatic chaos that he’d always been used to – when the young woman decided to cut things off with Charles.

Charles didn’t understand why. All he had done was care for her, to give her exactly what she asked for. He grew into a world of despair, yet again delving straight into the drugs that he had already been inflicted with. He longed for selfishness, to inflict pain onto others in order to project the pain that he had felt.

He was not victimized or unfairly treated. His parents were simply trying to warn him of the injustices of the world, and trying to protect him from the inevitable dangers that would come. Their statements of no, their constant belittling of him was not because of what he did wrong but a conditioning of their own realities being projected onto Charles.

His schooling was not an indication of the schools themselves but the reality that Charles manifested onto himself. Caught in a whirlwind of drugs, women, and unguided desires, nobody had limited Charles but himself. He had missed opportunities from subtle speech and foolishly interpreted them as attacks on himself.

 

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