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2022-04-16 22:51:59 (UTC)


What’s wrong with me? Acting as though the night and darkness and sleepiness are a barrier to someone like me. When all I used to do was stay up at night and do homework after playing around all day. I had a worse sleeping cycle but I had better grades, mental health not as much of an issue when it came to school. So? What’s stopping me from getting up and doing all that now?
I’ve nearly gone 24 so why can’t I go at least 18?

All it keeps reminding me of is church. Uncomfortable. People. Exclusion. Guilt.

when you’re a flightless bird with wings.

It’s a matter of habit. All of it is. You start, you continue, you do it again, force of habit. Years and years and months and months and weeks and days and hours and minutes and seconds and moments and thoughts. Spare change?

One thing is, recognition, the reluctance is my brain. Wiring. Dopamine. Reward systems. Anticipating; waiting, calculating, deciding prematurely, inaccurately. Serotonin. All desired, not sought after because the brain thinks, it thinks, it believes, it tells me, my body, I obey, don’t do it, not worth it, I miss out, I miss everything, I want to die.
Pushing against that is something unnatural, yet natural and necessary. I may not be depressed but my brain just wants me to feel just as unable to complete tasks.
Habits. Habits. Habits. Force. Recognition. Remembrance.

Where I exist? I still know, always will know. Only here. It’s safe here, at home, but my brain isn’t. This body isn’t. Not at all. No sir.
Self harm and self hatred and self sabotage altogether —live in the same body— as hope and desperation and loneliness and sadness sit within me, unmentioned, avoided, unexpressed. Can they switch?

That is
To fight against
My brain
The brain of this body
Of course it would only wish upon my downfall

(All i am is a brain, really, human life is so boring, a bunch of sappy self discovery and healing and harm and crap but all we are, sacks of meat trying to make ourselves meaningful to one another when our entire species will equate to nothing in a few (in terms of the universe) years. How tedious. Not worth my time. This life isn’t worth my time. Time is not worth my time. I am not worth. I am not here. I am not.)

Brain fight
Logical and sleep deprived (🤨)
hater brain and urge to rot in bed and die hastily

Who win? Don’t find out. I die. Thanks for coming along. 🫶

My brain, having determined that none of these tasks are worth completing instead of staying in bed, weighs me down. My neck, legs, head, body as a whole suddenly constricting by my blanket, the fan seeming like an extreme temperature barrier, freezing me to my pillow. Unable to move, unable to put up a fight, defeated moments after waking up. Another day lost as I cling to my covers, hoping to hide how pathetic I feel despite having done nothing yet.

That is

Get out of bed, brush your teeth, take a shower, change clothes, eat something, watch some tv, read some crap, eat lunch, go mingle with family, laugh or something mf, watch some funny things, do some tasks and chores, play some games, eat a dinner, brush your teeth, wash your face, go to sleep.

Don’t think too hard about it. If you have nothing better to do than what is unhealthy, restrict. Restrict despite what it might say. Always wanting. Desiring. Dragging me down. Down. Until it’s harder to breathe. To move. To bear with myself. Lol

But the characters are so hart 🫦😞
But then I’ll run out of fudging stories u greedy twig, cut it out
Food? Chill. Eat some veggies. Don’t go back for seconds mf. Eat some snacks, normal.
Never going back to Smule…never? Never. But never? Mmmmmm. Something sweet. A peach tree. Wild women don’t get the blues but I find that.

No. No Smule. It makes me feel worse despite literally being an app. TikTok has that blackhole effect, similarly, but different.
I fear blackholes.
My brain must be one.

This body, I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. It’s hairy and big and brown and feminine and masculine and round and pretty and ugly and unsightly and normal and invisible and quiet and cooperative and impossible to work with brainwise.
I pity it. Having a brain like that. One that wants for your own destruction. How inconvenient.

Please hurry leave me
I can’t bresthe

Reject the brain, embrace rebellion and all that it does not want. Please.
Don’t come back for seconds
Don’t sit in bed and rot
Don’t ignore your assignments
Don’t hide all day
Don’t pierce the skin, it’s not only dumb because you’ll always get caught bc u are the least sneaky mf to exist, you might get infected, cost them hospital bills

If you feel that bad, go to them, or lose yourself in something, on that note, finish those series, that’s real torture, finishing something you dropped😟

Don’t see time as a restriction, use it wisely though, or don’t lmao, what’s sleep?

Prisoner here —lonely paralyzed by fear like every single time you hoped you’d disappear

Ignore the automatic. Ignore what comes easy, if it’s not by your own laziness and is because of that blackhole you call a brain calling you into the dark side.
It doesn’t feel good there.
I’m sure the final stage of it does.
Finally let go, so far gone, that all you have to do is wait, wait until you end it, or life does you in instead.
What was the argument?

The only place that is safe, your presence is desired. So stay. Stay and make it decently, at least. First, stop overeating my mug, tired of that crap. Stop limiting yourself with sleep. Eat some veggie. ACHOO
Get out of bed. Turn off the fan. Fuchge I don’t even dens rot skskchskskkc

It’s night time though.
But there’s so much left to do.
We can do it tomorrow.
You won’t want to, not after church that early.
But I’ll be sleepy during it.
Aren’t you always?
I can take a short nap. Those were frequent throughout the best virtual year.
You can play some background entertainment. I’ll permit shower headphones.
So much. I can’t vacuum this late. Can’t. Can do everything else. Mostly self maintenance. Hygiene. Wtf else. Packing? Clothes aren’t back from washer, inaccessible.
Schedule? Never works. Never never never. Leave it random. Eyes.


Crapper snappers
It hurts

I’m tired. Tired. Tired. What’s the point? Fighting. I don’t want to read. Don’t.
I want to watch. I want to play. I wanna binge watch. Read motherhood webnovels. Bookmark it. Never will come back to it again? I’m so hopeless sometjmes

My friends will keep my honest
You won’t mean a thing to me and that’s what I call progress

But gosh dang it if that f-a isn’t fudging jaw dropping, tear inducing, drool creatING, leg opene-

Everyone to come around

That is, I don’t actually want to read smut. Just addicted. It’s the brain. I need to remove my brain. Replace it with anything else, no matter how cringe worthy. I’d grow out of it eventually, as long as it saves me I’d take it.

I saw myself inside of my own life

Well? Content removed for [_]
Replace all with [Random Unfinished Movie/Series]
I shan’t stop until my quest is finished.

Don’t wanna get up

Lazy fudger

In a sense, we’ve had it all along.
Really? Really? Really? Reading. Watching. Reading. Watching. Sleeping. Eating. Talking. Smiling. Reading. Watching.
Music? Roar to block out the noise all the Noisein my brain that won’t stop no matter how much I try and mentally fudging yell it just echoes, annoyingly repetitive

No matter how depressingly and probably incorrectly (misguided? In the wrong way.) relatable the lyrics feel. At least they take up space, replace the noise with soemthing more acceptable without laying down a hype beat that I don’t correspond with.

Charge. Charge. Charge. Wash. Clean. Read. Light. Minimal, but existing. Maybe music change if it’s okay in the end. I don’t feel like getting up. I never feel like doing anything. So it comes down to what I need to do. I need to do that crap. I need to enjoy the time I have. Only 6 FUDGING HOURS MY FUDGIG. FUGDE THGSwls not that much time left