It's a fact which precludes the thoughts of many: trusting others. That's the first basic of true communication.
This explains why I cannot form complete sentences without devolving into incomprehensible mumbling.
Then I believe I have found a highly plausible conclusion to my problem. Trust.
I have been scorned, burned, sold out, humiliated, and insulted from inside-out all my life from all walks of life, starting from my early childhood; worst of all, looking back, I think my best friends at the time were in collusion with my bullies. I have serious trust issues, and can maybe only trust people that have endured the same hell as I have. I'm a fallen angel that had his wings clipped since childhood; and speaking of which,
a certain movie really didn't help with my namesake in that regard either, further enforcing and stoking the flames that burned me, rather than forged me.
Ironically enough, my name originally meant Caretaker, and named after an extremely selfless person. Thanks to the re-purpose, I feel the title is rather appropriate, I just needed a context change to vindicate myself. In a sense, why am I like I am? Because of people doing a play-on about me being an antichrist, despite being a good person; not to mention your general asshole that would never let up, and useless friends that did nothing to protect you, despite giving you their word. I don't as much have trust issues (in reality, yes, technically, I do), I have people issues; I'm just wiser on where to draw the line. I'm an outcast by society's choice; and in return, I rejected society; even abandoned it for 5 years to devote to being homeschooled just to avoid the hassle of being around people. Non-shockingly, it took a whole school year for people to notice I was missing. Nice to know I made an impact on people. In a sense, I guess that can explain some of my madness. Summary: I hate reality with so much of my core being, I'm willing to figure out how to shatter it; even as far as not giving a fuck about the consequences of letting Hell literally break loose.
Oddly enough, I think I understand why I sympathize the devil so much at times. He and I are sorta in the same boat. I mean, he used to be called Lucifer, the Light Bearer (possibly a dark angel that cast shadows to make the light noticeable/visible; thus "bearing light"? Like an ironic name?). And then he became Satan. Mark Twain kinda comes to mind. I remember finding a quote relevant to this.
But who prays for Satan? Who in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner that needed it most, our one fellow and brother who most needed a friend yet had not a single one, the one sinner among us all who had the highest and clearest right to every Christian's daily and nightly prayers, for the plain and unassailable reason that his was the first and greatest need, he being among sinners the supremest?
Not to mention, isn't being prayed for a birthright, in a sense? I thought my religion was supposed to also teach forgiving your enemies (not in the mood at the time; it will come). I mean, nobody ever prays for that poor bastard. If anything, he always gets the shit beaten out of him, and cast right back into Hell in most prayers. NOTE: Not converting to Satanism or anything of the sort; just sorta noting that my religion ain't quite fully open-minded yet, by standard perspective. Always a good argument to toss in for anyone that claims to always be nice. If you're so nice and forgiving, can you forgive even the devil himself? (also kinda citing my True Mark of a Nice Guy thing again, with this for relevance.)