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Honestly, as of right now, I feel content. Not happy, not unhappy, not anything. I've had my ups and downs over these last few days...my smiles whilst rollerblading, my blood stained skin... but I feel alright. I feel so content it scares me. Whenever I get out of a depressive episode, I immediately get stuck on my fear of death and latch onto that. I wish I could be happy without fearing death. I think it's because I know I have something to lose. There's someone I love a lot. Really, more than any words of any language could ever describe...but maybe the lack of words is what says it all. Now every time I reach for the blade, I can't shake the little light that's telling me to put it back down. It's strange. That's never happened before. I don't want him to find this, but if he ended up reading this by chance, it would make things a hell of a lot easier for me. When I say I love him, I know it can mean a million things. I mean it in all of them- yet at the same time none. What reason is there to bind our feelings to society's boxes? Love, in all it's shapes and forms is still the same feeling. Anyway---!!! i dont wanna go to work tomorrow. it's so god damn BORINGGGG!!! like it's gross, covered in bugs, loud, and ANNOYING. A-NOYNG!!!! i listen to murder podcasts to pass the time now.... i can feel my head starting to hurt. goodnight.
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Right now I'm listening to Love You To Death... Type O' Negative. I feel so at peace. Like, a song has never made me feel so good. Serenity is the only thing running through my veins right now. This is legitimately now my favorite song ever, and I am SO excited to hear the rest of the album. I've had a shitty day, and I already feel so much better. SO EXCITED!!! it's 7:22 pm now. the album was good, maybe even among the best. I'm still a sad sack of shit though. I'm moving into a new house next week... yay i guess. i don't know, i'm still getting used to being an adult...not to mention suddenly moving between two houses each week. at least at dad's i get to sleep in the basement. I'm listening to my favorite band, Joy Division, right now. No music has ever spoke to me as much as theirs has. I love every single one of their songs... I have to go to work again tomorrow... and the day after that....and after that.....and one day of freedom, but then again....and anohter....but then again.... and again, and again, and again. I'm tired of this. Every day I wake up at 7 to go to work, and come home too tired to do anything the rest of the day. I don't even feel like eating anymore. I feel numb. I always feel numb. It's so weird, even if I feel happy, sad, or angry, or anything.... there's always this lingering emptiness that makes all of those emotions feel fake. Hell, even being in love feels fake. Where will it end? I wish I could feel something, and feel it for real.... no vacant backdrop, no backhanded remarks from my mind. It's so funny. SO FUNNY. SOOOOO FUNNY when people try to help me with their hollow wisdom. They speak words from a heart that isn't theirs. They say things everyone else has said before and act like it means anything to me. When people attempt give generalized therapy in comment sections.... when people repeat the same robotic dialogue of an automated help machine.... I don't understand. What fucking retard actually falls for that shit? That isn't help! They don't KNOW YOU! They just know what saccharine nothings make a shallow soul feel some temporary sense of solace! FUCKING IDIOTS. HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! "HELLO STRANGER. IF YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO, I'LL ALWAYS BE THERE!!!!" "WHAT IS YOUR NAME AGAIN...? ANYWAY, I CARE ABOUT YOU. BECAUSE YOU ARE DEPRESSED. I DON'T WANT MY NEGLIGENCE ON MY RECORD." "HELLO FRIEND." HELLO FRIEND. HELLO FRIEND. HELLO FRIEND. i can't remember the last time i felt something without having to physically clench my chest to make my heart feel. DID YOU EAT TODAY? YOU'RE A SKINNY, UGLY, FAG. good! GOOD! every day every day i can feel myself slipping.... further and further away.... will fading away into darkness bring upon a new dawn? night will pass. keep cutting yourself. it won't always hurt. it won't always hurt. am i still human? what counts as human? i breathe. that's all. i'm starting to wonder if i've truly lost all hope. yes, i can control my actions. but i can't truly feel. i need to kill myself. i need to kill the me that's stuck in this conscious. i need to kill the me that thinks. the me that knows i'm trapped. the me that's writing this. the me that comes too close to being a god. the me that feels. the me that doesn't feel. the me that's in the cockpit. the me that loves you. the me that wants to live. the me that wants to die. the me that sees a tomorrow. the me that doesn't. the me that has fond memories of childhood. the me on perscription medication. the me that lies about it all. the me that plays with shadows. the me that drinks its blood. the me i saw in the mirror. the me i can't look away from. the me that you're reading. the me that was alive. the me that had a family. the me that had friends. the me that loved video games and anime. the me that loved music. the me that always made sure to tell their family they loved them before bed. the me that squished their cat's faces. the me that ran out of the freezer that day. the me that can't look at him. the me that was only 16. the me that cries. the me that cuts. the me that stutters over her words. the me that burns things for fun. the me that had fun. the me that really wished things coul've turned out better. the me that nobody knew. the me that knows things won't change, no matter what they do. dance, dance, dance, dance, dance to the radio
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Today...oh, today. I'm sure nobody's wondering why I haven't updated this web page as of late. It's okay, I'm not wondering either...because I'm the author. Jokes aside, these 6 days since I last wrote have been...eventful to say the least. I probably already mentioned this before, but I'm moving to a new house soon. I get the jackpot luck of sleeping in the basement...my dream! As per the advice of Eric Harris, I'll find little secrets (or make my own) to hide my things in. My things. I'm so excited to make them. Looking backwards into the future, I think it's pretty obvious the signs. "oh, we should've known!" "if only we...." ................................... ha ha ha ha. Today I read on an online chat with all of my friends that they were bragging about their various mental handicaps. I think the fact they enjoy their mental misfortune is a form of retardism in itself. Okay, keep bragging. See how you like it. Keep butting yourself into EVERY FUCKING CONVERSATION with how 'mentally ill' you are for liking a fucking MAINSTREAM TELEVISION SHOW. Keep making my urge to stab the sockets of your gouged out eyes in OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER and OVER AGAIN grow LARGER. Keep seeing my very real anguish as just a stepping stone for you to put your TOTALLY CUREABLE retardism on a pedestal. I KNOW. I'M SELF CONSCIOUS. TOO SELF CONSCIOUS. I know I have some things wrong with me. I'm really afraid, terrified in fact, of my growing suspicion that I might have borderline personality disorder. I don't want to. THAT'S something only KILLERS have. Though, I don't mind that second label....... I think he's been replaced. Him. My ex. During our relationship, he became a monster. I only realized how bad it sounded a few months ago, but he was using me to cheat on someone else. He would get mad at me for every little thing. He would constantly abandon me, but get mad when I became distant in retaliation an blame me for his abscense. He tried to control what I wore. He told people about our relationship after I told him not to. Being with him felt like being in a cage. I thought that since I'd known him for 16 years at that point, he'd love me for my personality. As we split up though, he told me the reason he wanted to break up with me is because it was my fault because i started dressing different. I think he was just looking for a reason to break up with me. I knew it. He was just looking for a reason ever since we started dating. he was just afraid of me. its my fault for being so horrible. my dad won't shut up about how he thinks my mom is weird for caring about her kids. shut UP. SHUT UP. SH HHHHHHH HSHHSH SH HHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHH HH HHHHH i've gotten good at rollerblading. my interest in eric and dylan has waned over these last few days, so i'm going to go read and research to rekindle my love. making friends is easy making friends is easy
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My ass hurts. I fell down a bunch of times when I was rollerblading two days ago. I'm gonna dye my hair black tomorrow because I feel like it. I heard this skank bitch talking about how her 'intrusive thoughts won' because SHE dyed her hair. Like bitch if I let MY intrusive thoughts 'win', I'd be in federal prison with 34 life sentences. Keep your pipeline punch, 100 gecs, self-diagnosed pokedex of mental illnesses ASS SHUT. There's a GIANT difference between an impulse and an intrusive thought. I'm gonna fucking kill you. I'm gonna nearly sever your arm with a knife and eat the rest of the way through. I'm gonna let you go just so I can laugh when I trip you again. I'm gonna laugh. I love you. I love you so, so, so, so, SO MUCH. I hate myself so much because of it. What am I going to do......??? Oh NO oh nonono why do i need things to LIVE for that's not the PPOINT? is it? don't you want to just let loose a little before the world comes crashing down around us? you're reading this, thinking it's an edgy phase, or an attempt at sympathy. If that's what you think, I'll bite your lips right off so you can't say such stupid things again. I'll........................................ I love all of people and humans so much. Look at you all go. So beautiful. Every little person, every little life. All these memories, events, smiles, kisses, tears, adventures...... all under my boot.
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