old habits die hard

observations of a stranger

The true signs of self-destruction are easy to establish, but difficult to validate. Intentional physical harm. Deliberate emotional abuse. Voluntary social isolation. Thoughts and actions that are written off as an incontrollable reflex. Self-destruction is a premeditated design, with the intention to eradicate the world of your hollow stigma.
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An impatience and intolerance for the insipidity of your surroundings grows into a restlessness that proves grueling to suppress. The traits of self-destruction vary greatly to those of a suicidal mentality. Despite popular belief, the two do not co-exist within the mind. Suicide is a comfort to pain. When pain is inescapable, the inevitable approaches. Self-destruction is the comfort to nothingness. Emptiness carves a much larger hole than you could imagine. The difference is in the validation. Pain is a struggle validated by the mind. It is a concrete quality responsible for misery. Emptiness cannot be quantified or scaled. In examining it further, is it really so impossible to accept? The manipulator whose presence arrests the attention of the immediate. The ego-driven soul hungry enough to belittle anything within reach.
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The impression of a nihilistic existence is impossible to escape. Self-destruction becomes an addiction to sensation. It remains the only answer to amusing the insatiable demands of desolation. It is the only opportunity that presents a chance to interact with the world in a manner that produces sensual stimuli. Conversation lowers into a dull hum of sounds that have no significance. Taste dissipates, reducing food to textures and shapes with no flavor. Sex becomes a daydream. Habits become muscle memory as you fade into the routines of life. And before you know it, you grow sinister.