Cold Rain, Beating Upon My Back

I am so sick of thinking. I hate it. I also hate living where I do. I love my parents with all my heart, and I know they love me. I am just sure they don't like me.
I don't know, I was an awful child. A terrible brother, and son. They (my parents) can't seem to get over that fact. I guess I am not so bad now. Most people say how I'm a good person, or at least a person that has his head on straight.
And yet, somehow I always feel like shit. I always feel so bad, for not doing much. At risk of sounding depressed, and fishing for a compliment, I always have a heavy heart. And I don't know why. Maybe I refuse to know why, a weird form of self protective ignorance I guess. I don't want to be all whiny and such, it's just plain how I feel. I am rather dramatic, but I pale in comparison to others.
I'm just average. Not much special about me. I can be easily forgotten, maybe I want to be. I don't know. I just hate that when I find something I am okay at, there is someone a trillion times better than I am, and they gloat about it, or just get all the attention for it. I am sick of being, okay, or pretty good at things. I want to be the best dammit. And I never will be.
I can't tell if I am being pessimistic, or just aiming low, and lessening the plunge to the ground of mediocrity.
I sure as hell hope this is not a pity party, I hate those. I just want all of theses things off my chest.
How disgusted I am by my friends. How this year has been the worst yet. How so many people know what a coward I am. How I feel like the worst person to ever be. That is so dramatic. I hate it. I despise it. Why can't I be normal? Dammit, that too is dramatic. No matter what I do, something I say winds up being dramatic.
Fuck it. Fuck life. I want to start new. Get away, and never look back. Well, there are several glaring exceptions to this overly dramatic rule. But that is for a different post.