no name
2021-09-09 23:47:53 (UTC)

Nothing else.

If I were gonna die anytime, this would be the most opportune time. I missed the due dates on those assignments and avoiding the repercussions, the blame, the disappointment, is something I’m contemplating. I’d probably just get kidnapped if I ran away.
Spent my entire day binging manga and watching The End of the F-ing World, didn’t finish it though, the second hand embarrassment caught up to me.
I wish someone would bust through the wall (like the koolaid dude) and take me away. To escape this reality I guess. I’m so done for.

And there’s that sense of calming dread. Impending doom and whatnot. I’m not sure I want to wake up tomorrow. Sounds like hell, to be quite honest.
Drinking pink lemonade to drown my sorrows away. Maybe I should just drop out. Is this the result of stress? Or am I genuinely a lowlife?

I was thinking about being blind and deaf before when I was in bed. Not having to see any of my wrong doings or the expressions of my parents. Not being able to hear anything at all. Not the music pounding through my headphones. Not my fan I leave on all day (what a waste of electricity, I should just melt). Not people entering and leaving my room. Nothing. Or maybe that ringing thing people talk about, tinnitus was it. I don’t have it. Yet.

I don’t remember why I got out of bed. Maybe for the bathroom. To quench thirst. Or maybe because I couldn’t bear the my little pony episodes blaring because i share a room. How amusing. Everything is so much funnier, dumb in writing.

Drinking pink lemonade and leaning against the living room wall thinking about how there’s really nowhere I could hook a noose. Not that I’d do that to myself. Just a thought. There’s literally nowhere.

If death isn’t the answer, and running away will get me killed anyway, then what exactly can I do? Why couldn’t working have been my form of escapism? Music, reading, watching, playing, dying, sleeping. All useless in the face of reality’s hardships (💀). I sound so dramatic. All the more reason to get out of here.
I’m taking up a spot in my class that could’ve been used by someone who would actually take advantage of their access to education and succeed. If I could, I’d just put myself somewhere else.

I wish I had a more active imagination. I think I saw a yellow spark in the air a second ago. It’d be nice to just be able to envision it all. Yeah. I don’t wanna go back to my room. I’m sleepy but I don’t wanna sleep. I don’t want tomorrow to come.
Am I having visual hallucinations? I keep seeing stuff. Shadows in doorways, warping. Things in my peripherals-

Said sibling came around the corner and I jumped. Blamed me for getting scared. I get that split second anger but it quickly dissipates now. I suppose it’s just instinctual to get upset, but it’s easier to just not feel that.
I wanna burn something.

I hate school. And I know it’s bad to say, though it’s a common feeling. But I genuinely hated last year and this year so far. Virtual learning is trash and I’d rather not be a student than go through this personal hell of assignments that I’m mentally incapable of doing. I must be wrong in the head. No, I’m probably just a plain failure of a human being. That I could see.
It’s be easier if I got diagnosed with a bunch of hardcore mental illness’. But then I’d be given an excuse, and I’d have my emotions validated, and we obviously can’t have that happening.

I wonder why I turned out this way. Making things difficult for myself and my family. I wonder what went wrong. I’ve probably always been thinking so it can’t exactly be sentience.
The pandemic maybe. Or the summer break that followed. I was down bad back then. Lots of guilt for my existence in general. Not that I’ve really come far from that anyway.

When I start shows, if I don’t finish them in that same day or night, I’ll probably never finish them. Binging sessions just don’t usually draw out like that. That’s why Girl from Nowhere is still sitting in my Netflix list untouched. Same with Higurashi. Never finished mha. Too long I guess. Probably something to do with attention span.

That reminds me of adhd. I can’t think too hard about stuff like that because I end up consciously trying to take in my actions and thoughts and habits to draw connections to any neurodivergent case I learn about. I used to think it was spelled 80hd. Tragic.

My head hurts. I’ve been staring at a screen and wearing noise canceling headphones all day. Makes sense. I’m also tired. I’ve been tired for 3 days straight. Strange. The way Spotify is giving me ads in Spanish now. Bro, I don’t even know the language.

Speaking of strange, I woke up today feeling strange. I woke up late, and it felt like a summer break afternoon. Dark and foggy. I attended class, by that I mean I entered the Google meet and then sat on my floor doing nothing, and it just felt like I woke up in a different time zone. Hilarious. I was feeling strange. Strange in that way where you don’t feel anything, positive or negative. Just strange. I’m not sure how long that lasted.

I think it’s been there all day. Aside from the times where I genuinely laugh at a meme or what I’m reading. Even being with family, I laughed, but turning away it just fell off my face which hadn’t really happened before. Strange, to say the least.
When I got out of bed earlier, I saw my reflection, and I think I look dead. It’s better that way. I’d rather not know how I look otherwise. I wish I could take a mental health break from life itself. Lie in some grass and listen to music. Except, I’d never come back. And no one would notice, no one would care, and I wouldn’t care. And the world would move on. The End.

But I won’t get my happy ending. I feel like dying. It’s so easy to.

I don’t necessarily care if anyone reads this far anymore. I made my diary public because it feels nice to see how many fell victim to clicking on my entries and reading my words, even if only for 3 seconds before clicking out. Some of these are only 3 sentences long anyway.
I looked at my fingers earlier. They’re kind of stubby in a way. And it made me realize. I really am a child. How amazing it is that such a grotesque looking thing could actually be a child. Quite fitting. Yet disturbing. I need to refill my lemon pink ade.

I guess there’s something grounding about walking across a kitchen floor barefoot. And it’s uncomfortable because just want to float away. I wanna have one of those slowmo walking moments with someone with good music.
I’m probably an attention seeker of sorts. It’s so nice to get messages in response to entries. At the same time, I never know how to respond. Because, it’s like wow thanks for being a decent human being and advising me to do whatever, but I probably won’t do, thanks I guess. Maybe being pitied wouldn’t be that bad. Or maybe it would suck.
I’m probably just wanting a hug from someone that ISNT currently in my life. I don’t really like any of these people knowing what goes through my head. That’s weird. I’d rather trust someone from the outside. Some that shouldn’t be trusted. So illogical.

I wonder what happened to that one dude who deleted his diary. Hope he’s still alive. The bit he added about masturbation was weird though. Gross.

Anyway. That’s why I used to go on Omegle. Whether it was due to sudden bursts of social energy, to procrastinate, or because I was lonely (not that that would ever be solved by omegle since it’s probably a physical thing), I went there sometimes. Not anymore. Lost its appeal.
I think I participate in a lot of self pity and compliment fishing without knowing it. My mom told me I do. Made me feel disgusted with myself. Then I stopped caring. And I stopped talking to her about my problems. But getting complimented feels nice, even if I can never take it as honest truth. It feels nice when it isn’t family. Sometimes. Idk my social group is small and all the adults in it are biased, I don’t like them. And the ones my age don’t talk to me. How fun.

Maybe I actually am a lonely kid. Wow this song. I think eyebags, ones that stick, are a semi-universal thing. Ive also determined that I’m not in a prologue. Or rather, my whole life is a prologue in the sense that I’m not even part of the story. Nothing will ever happen to me and I will never get anywhere. All I’m doing now is causing the ending to come a little sooner with stupid decisions. It’s funny, the amount of non-expectations I’ve placed on my future.

I heard somewhere that you’ll never truly live until you’re able to have been vulnerable with someone. I’d probably only ever be able to open up—or be myself—with someone who was exactly like me, but even then I wouldn’t want to dump emotional baggage on someone because I’m just sooo nice.
I totally wasted my summer break. Or maybe this was all inevitable. Tragic.

I don’t want to play Genshin impact. Or read that story. Or watch tv. So I’m just gonna keep writing. It’s where my interest is right now anyway.

Sometimes I wonder why people do the things they do. Or don’t do the things they could do. And then I remember that not everyone has given up on the possibility of ever looking better, and feel shame over it being exposed, even in a situation life or mortification/death. When I was thinking about hurting myself during that strange morning, I accidentally got a bleeding paper cut when I hit my stack of unfinished work. Ironic. Or not. I don’t remember the meaning anymore.

It’s weird how an injury, after having been bandaged long ago can still throb in pain(?) when you’ve accidentally gotten it wet. So weird. Not that I mind.
My hand looks so holdable right now. I wish I had a taco. But I’m not hungry. And eating would do me no good. Just like how I didn’t plan to drink anything when I got out of bed. Crazy how I end up doing stuff unplanned. That’s how I end up in situations as dumb as this.

Someone once said that my texting tone is American. And for some reason that annoyed me. It would annoy me if I was British and someone said my texting tone sounded British. Maybe I like people mistaking my identity more. Just like how I like being mistaken for a boy instead of a girl sometimes. Maybe it feels good to hide behind a mask. I say maybe a lot. Maybe I’m never certain about anything. I remember how indecisive I was back in the day.

Now I don’t remember much. It’s better to forget. Easier to not remember. To not worry. I’m always distracting myself. From thoughts. From work. From family. From problems. From friends. From myself. Everything is a distraction and something I want to be distracted from, simultaneously. It’s so easy to ramble on my own like this. Makes me wonder why I’m trash at conver- oh wait, I remember why. You don’t spill all your mental struggles to people when you first meet them.

3%. I have nothing to do but sleep. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow though. I’d rather wake up in a hospital. But I don’t want to burden my parents with rash decisions. I wish I could do anything without repercussions. But this is life. And life sucks. Life is pain. And I suck. I’m in pain.
I can’t do this.