tasey's journal

february twenty eighth twenty twenty six

2026-02-28T09:52:01Z

this week has been complete shit. more so than most are. i'm so tired of everyone just acting like jackasses and for what? from the constant complaining and bullshit thrown around at the sightest thing. it started with one getting far too ahead of themself, saying shit that they'd never even do but threaten ti do so anyways. that was bad, it was incredibly irritating and got on my nerves. but it was just the one thing, it happened little by little, but it was manageable. it was manageable, for a while. but then i had ti deal with another asshole, who just never ever shuts the hell up and always finds something to complain about. it doesn't help that their voice just sounds like nails on a chalk board. but that's besides the point, they just never stop talking, because for some reason the best thing they can think of is to complain. there isn't a single quiet moment, where they don't stop spewing whatever the fuck it is just because. and if it isn't complaining it's some other bullshit that's equally annoying. for once, can't they just shut the fuck up? silence is fine once and a while, it's okay for there to be a break between concersations, but no. god forbid there be a single moment of peace where i can enjoy the simple company of other people. instead of have to deal with this dumbass who can't keep their mouth shut and never contributes anything of worth. i'm tired of it.

but eventually, i got over it. sure, i was incredibly pissed off and annoyed, but i distanced myself. i did the mature thing and kept those thoughts to myself. vented it out a bit, went for a walk, and felt all better. if it had just stayed that way, i could've had a good rest of my day. that's hopeful thinking, of course. the higher i go, the harder i'll fall, always. so i started hanging out with another friend. that went well, had some fun, they called it a night afterwards. another few came by, and i talked to them as well. for a while, it was fine, casual. had a few laughs and it was going swimmingly. how we even got into this conversation was beyond me. one off hand comment devolved into a few back and forths that made me increasingly annoyed and, as gross as the word is, offended. i don't think i'm out of my rights saying this. i'm fairly certain that my reaction was justified, if not, rather tame for what i could've said. the topic at hand was saying that hitting a child shouldn't be frowned upon if it isn't abusive. it sounds contradictory, hell the statement doesn't even make sense. hitting a child should paint a very clear image in your mind, one that shouldn't seem justifible in your mind. but i guess not, apparently. it was a misunderstanding, objectively. maybe i'm in the wrong for assuming what you meant. but i don't think you're without fault either. i feel as though you should've put more thought it what you were actually saying, and put yourself into the perspective of someone else hearing you. maybe you should've considered the fact that i was hit several times to the point of bruising as a child. i know you know this, i know i've told you before. i wanted you to know for a reason. i wanted you to better understand the reason i think the way i do and act the way i want to. so excuse me if it feels as though your stomping all over something precious i personally gave to you. trusted you with. it doesn't matter, it never fucking matters anyways. everyone will live on ineffectef by whatever happens today, or this entire week, and only i will be the one still thinking about it. it's hard for me to forget things. to simply let go of what happens. i'm an emotional person, i know that. i understand that i let things get to me more than they should. but it isn't without reason. i value trust a lot, i hate the idea of letting someone get close to me only to stab me in the back. so when it does happen, even when it's something small, it hurts a lot okay? i don't expect sympathy, obviously not. no ones going to see this anyways. i just wish people were more understanding. i wish i could trust people easier.

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february twenty second twenty twenty sixth

2026-02-23T03:06:23Z

i want to start off by saying that i like my friends. i really do, they stick with me through whatever bullshit comes. and to the few that'll listen, they do. with that being said, i'm also very tired of my friends. i've said this before, gone into extensive detail on the parts of them that i don't like, but it gets to a point you know? i can only ignore these flaws for so long before i get exhausted of that. i'm tired of the empty threats that are thrown out to people you'll never talk to again. you're not going to do that, so why even say it? and even if you did go through with it, it's such an obnoxious thing to say about anyone. especially in the context you are saying it. do you even consider the things you are saying anymore? is your only way of venting out your anger through threats that border on the illegal? really? at least they're just threats, i hope. because the things you say, if you did do them, would be enough to disconnect every single connection you have. you can be better than this, it's so simple. you gain nothing from the words you spit out at your screen. wouldn't it just be better to not say them at all? have you not realized how god damn uncomfortable you make everyone else by saying them? hell, someone even tried to point it out, get you to stop saying that shit, and you just ignored them. acted as if you didn't hear them at all. even when they said it multiple times. is your anger seriously more important than the people you choose to surround yourself with? i just don't get it anymore. sometimes i think that your anger is the only real relationship you can hold with anything without issue. but if it was only one person, i could ignore it. that's never the case though, is it? you know they're a problem, you deal with them day in and day out. talk to them every single day, hear what they say every day. not just one, but several of them. and you do nothing about it ever. you know as well as i do that those little precautionary warnings are ineffective as all hell. sure, they'll listen for a little while, at best a day or two. but after that? they're back on their bullshit, and the problem is back. you're a good person, you really are. but you need to take action once and a while. shouldn't it be time to cut off a few people? can't you realize that these people are doing you any good? they're making it worse, for you and everyone around you. i don't want to watch you rot while you try to help lost causes. you shouldn't have to protect someone who can't so much as consider anyone else but themselves. they spew so much bullshit at others, but the moment someone tries and throws it their way, it's now a problem? you're being a hypocrite. it's fine for everyone else to get shit smeared on them just because they don't have the urge to complain about it. oh but, when even the smallest bit is put their way, it's so bad and irrational? either you let everyone mess around, or you hold everyone on a tight leash. the answer should be clear, shouldn't it?

the rest of the people tend to just be annoying at times, but i can get over that fine. because at the end of the day, they're just being themselves. i can't get mad at someone forever just because they find something stupid funny. it's all harmless fun, and no one's hurt by it. but for the few of you, it's a constant problem that you can't ever break out of. it's not just this little thing that happens and no one's truly affected by. it's an underlying issue that you refuse to face, and it's ruining both yourself and everyone and everything around you. if you can't change, shouldn't you just be torn away and thrown away? i won't surround myself with people like this anymore. letting myself rot out of comfort rooted in this faux sense of duty. i don't care about all the time we've known each other, because you've always been the same thorn in my side. if you still haven't changed after all that time, why should i stop myself from changing for you? i'm done ranting. this shit won't reach these people anyways, and maybe in a sense it's better that way. i don't know, but if it ever did reach them, i'll leave this little personal, even though this whole thing is personal, personal side note. i mean every single word i put here. none of this is dramatized or exaggerated in any way. you are a problem, you are a fucking disease and it pains me every time i'm around you. those fleeting moments of joy i experience around you are outweighed by the bullshit you do. i sincerely hope you either change as a person, or disappear forever. sincerely, t.

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february seventeenth twenty twenty six

2026-02-18T03:24:48Z

hey again. you know, you'd think after a while i'd probably learn? or change? or do literally anything at all that'd help? but no, not quite. instead i decide to let myself drone on through the days, acting as if there's nothing wrong with the way i'm living. but i can't do that forever, can i? i have the face the reality of the situation of eventually, especially when doing the same things over and over again get old. i've done this before, i'll probably do it again too. typing this out effectively does nothing but subside it for a while. maybe it'll make me feel better, maybe it won't. i don't even know why i do this anymore. or why i do anything at all anymore. maybe eventually i'll just grow numb to all feeling, all enjoyment, sadness, and whatever other emotions are on that spectrum. and maybe then, and only then, will i be able to make a decision to change my life. because right here, right now? it doesn't feel like i'll improve ever, and that sounds real depressing i realize. a lot of the things i say when it's not covered in bullshit and jokes tends to be that way. i'm tired, i'm tired, i'm tired, i can say that as much as i want to but the sentiment never changes. nothing's changed for months, years actually. i just got better at keeping my mouth shut, keeping this to myself. at the very least i just want those around me to be happy, even if it's just by a little. so yeah, i'll keep on hiding these little moments of weakness, keep them all to myself, just so everyone else doesn't have to see how ugly it is. so they don't have to see how pathetic my situation is. i'd rather suffer alone than share it with others. because the guilt i feel from having to make them deal with that is too much to bear. i cannot stand that disgusting feeling that washes over me when i do that. i know i'm doing this to myself, making this worse for me, and maybe even the few that notice. but i just can't be bothered to care anymore. the harder i think about it, the harder i try to dig myself out of this pit, the harder i fall back down. i don't want to relapse harder than the last time. can't i just suffer comfortably? that's what i'm thinking, but doesn't that just sound so absurd? it really is pathetic, all that i do. or rather, all that i don't do. i want to hope for something, for change, for anything. i want to hope for there to be a day, one magical day that all of this suddenly is easier to deal with. but that day is never going to come, not ever. i know what i would have to do, it's obvious. the path that i need to follow has always been a clear one. not once in my life has the goals laid in front of me been hard to see. and that's the funny thing, too. that despite that fact, that despite all the chances i've been given, that despite how easy it could've been, that despite what i could've done to fix all these problems, i never did choose to do that. not once, not ever. always half assing everything, or not doing it at all. maybe, at first, it seems like i could really do it, that i could keep up with it all. but then suddenly, that stops being the case. suddenly i'm just making things worse for myself. and then i'm back to doing the same shit again, lying to myself and everyone around me to make them think that it's improving. and it will always end the same way. eventually i'll slip up, i'll run out of time, and the truth will come out. i'll be back where i started, again, again, again. i'm tired, i'm so fucking tired of doing anything at all. if i just died tragically one day, wouldn't that be easiest? i wouldn't have to do anything at all, i could just die, not by my hand, but by some string of unfortunate circumstances. for once, the blame wouldn't fall on me. that would make me happy, if i could be there to be happy about it. obviously not, i'd be dead, but hypothetically, you know? i want to die, but i don't want to do it myself. how pathetic is that? i don't even want to commit to that, something so simple. when did i become like this? maybe i always was like this. the moon is beautiful, i suppose. i love everyone as much as i hate myself. and having typed out all of this, i don't quite feel satisfied yet. same old, same old. it's bound to happen, why even beat around the bush? i don't care, and you shouldn't either. just get used to the fact that it's going to happen, and there's nothing to be done about it. i pour myself out for all the times i've deserved it. i'm certain i do.

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january twenty seventh twenty twenty six

2026-01-27T20:55:56Z

i dream a lot. most of my dreams aren't really worth remembering though. the lot of them tend to just amount to whatever i was doing recently, and that'd be it. last night, i had a dream worth remembering. i was at my old house, my dad's house. i believe it was my older step brother's birthday. not that he ever celebrated his birthday there, but there were quite a bit of people there. everyone was in the backyard, where that pool that barely got used was. someone was giving some sort of speech, not that i was paying attention. it ended, and i moved over to the left side of that yard. thinking back on it, that area was one of the main places i lingered in when i was at that house more often. mostly because no one bothered me out there, and i could just stare up at the sky. back on topic, my other step brother was over there, and he called over his brother, or my older step brother. they talked, hugged, gave him some sorta punch for his birthday. i was talking to someone while they did their thing, making a claim that my step brother would mess with the older one, just to ruin the moment and what not. not in like a, rude way or anything, but just to have a laugh. i was right about that, and when my older brother heard, he decided to mess around with me. nothing crazy, just a bit of playful rough housing. somehow, i ended up falling over on my dad, and i was a bit dizzy too. not hurt, just a bit disoriented. he made quite a big fuss about it, saying i needed help or something. point being, he dragged me away from my arm, quite roughly. while he pulled me, i grabbed onto one of the pillars that held up this sort of awning. he let go, and i told him i didn't need help, that i was fine. the first remark came out rather harshly, and the second much softer, too ease the possible anger that could be coming. my dad grabs me again, pulling me inside, saying we need to talk. once we get inside, he doesn't say anything at all. he holds onto my arms, just below my armpits. and he squeezes, hard. he keeps squeezing and it's starting to hurt. i tell him that, and he loosens his grip. he just looks at my arms, not my eyes. and then he squeezes again, and again, and again. each time he loosens his grip, before squeezing again. i tell him it hurts, he stops, he continues. he's squeezing again, and this time it really feels like he might break my arms. i woke up after that. strangely, it felt like one of my arms really did hurt in the area he was squeezing. i rubbed the spot a bit, and the pain lingered for a bit longer, fading away gradually. for the next ten minutes or so, i spent mad at myself for not doing anything about what he had done. sure, it was only a dream, but i still wish i had done more to stop him. i spent the next few minutes after that fantasizing about killing him, in circumstances which would allow it. in other words, legal justification. not that these scenarios would ever happen, but it doesn't hurt to think about. apparently not as much as dreaming.

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december twenty fifth twenty twenty five

2025-12-25T09:36:21Z

merry christmas. my gift to you is telling you that i got up to more dubious activities involving, you guessed it, my arms and a box cutting implement. if you couldn't tell, i don't really take this seriously. this time i really did just do it off a whim. i mean, yeah the past day or two was a little stressful and exhausting, but it wouldn't contribute it to this. i've been thinking about this for quite a while. it's been something on my mind. distracting me constantly. so eventually i gave in obviously, it was inevitable really. i've put this all down before, described it in detail that is more than a little uncomfortable, but i like writing this. i like describing my experiences in my own words, my own perception. it's fun, it's part of the experience. but i won't bother this time. it's feels unoriginal and a bit annoying to repeat and rewrite the same things in a different way. yes, of course i love how the hot water makes the smell of blood permeate in the air, the thick copper smell filling my nostrils. it makes my skin shiver, and it's hard not to laugh about it. but there's nothing more that needs to be said then that. i enjoyed it, and now that i've had my fill, i'll just enjoy the rest of the festivities like a normal person. tomorrow will be interesting. probably a bit annoying, or exhausting. probably both. hopefully the food's good at least. that's all for now, i suppose.

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december fourteenth twenty twenty five

2025-12-15T07:13:04Z

it's been a while since i've done this, for plenty of different reasons. one because i simply don't feel like it. two, because cleaning up afterwards is tedious. i mean, it's inherently messy, of course it's annoying to clean up. and three, hiding it is a pain in the ass. but regardless, that one morning, i was feeling particularly fidgety. so bored out of my mind to the point that i wanted to do nothing. but i absolutely hated the idea of rotting in bed. so the thought comes to mind. it sounds extremely appealing, like being offered your favorite meal right in front of you the second you get that first rumble. i open the drawer, sift through the stuff above it, and pull out the little headphone case i keep my things in. walk over to the bathroom, lock the door, and open in. a basic folding box cutter, and a yellow microfiber tower that's almost completely coated in dry blood, front and back. i really should clean this one, but i keep forgetting. hopefully writing this will get me to remember. but at the time, i looked at it, and i just cursed at myself. i walked back into my room, grabbed the same type of towel, and went back in. took off my hoodie, and stared at my arm. is it strange to say that i enjoy looking at my scars? other people's scars aren't attractive or anything, the general idea of them isn't something that i like looking at, except my own. i don't really get it myself, but i think it's probably better not to question it. after staring at my arm long enough, i did what i usually do, cut over and over again, nothing really note worthy there. and then again, and again, and once more, though on my other arm. my other arm was completely unmarked until now, minus the ones higher up on my arm. but my forearm has stayed completely clean for the whole time i've done this habit. well until now, and for a while it was like that since if they looked there they'd just assume i didn't cut. so much for that, i guess. after all of that was said and done, i cleaned up and all that jazz. still annoying, and i had to stain a completely new towel just to do it. it still good, a lot better then it really should. the shaky breath i take after the first the first few, the heat the spreads throughout my body, the shiver from my head to my neck and shoulders. i hate to say it, i really do, but i enjoy it so, so much. the smell that fills my nostrils when the blood seeps out of my skin, the sensation of the blood rolling down my arm. burning the sight into my eyes, watching the blood slowly dry. i enjoy the simple taste of the copper flavor, that stains my tongue, envelops my tastebuds, and blends with my saliva. i relish in the burning sensation as i pour warm water onto my open cuts, washing away the blood, and leaving the skin drowned and a mix of pink and red. a towel dragged across the wounds, drying them off but leaving a pain that lingers in the moment. the wounds bleed again, and i press the towel against them a few more times until the bleeding stops enough. wash the blade, put the towels back in the headphone case, along with the box cutter, and pull the hoodie back over my body. i can already feel the blood starting to stain the inside of the sleeves, but i can't be bothered to do anything about it. i put the case away and sit back down at my desk. i feel a lot better than i did before. i already wanna do it again, and i'll want to do it tomorrow too. and the day after. whether i will or not is really just up to the circumstances. cleaning up can be tedious, after all.

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november tenth twenty twenty five

2025-11-10T12:59:13Z

recently i've been thinking about myself. not myself currently but more so myself however many years back. i'm not sure if i was a weird kid persay, but i wasn't exactly normal. i was, unfortunately, by it's simplest definition, an ipad kid. and boy, did it have it's lasting effects on me as a person. for better and mostly for worse. i think part of having entertainment which required no other person to maintain probably started my deterance from other people. bakc then, sure i still had friends and what not. i mean, school and everything, so i had no other option. though, over the years that number would dwindle slowly but surely. and then covid did it's bullshit, and i had no real reason to contact any if those friends, since i never did talk to them outside of school anyways. for that year, i did online school and basically spoke to no one other than close family i lived with. i got really used to it, i guess, also made me realize that online school was not a good fit for me. i still think it's a miracle i passed that year, but it's not like it mattered. the year after went somewhat fine, went back to in person school, aboyt half the people i talked to before i no longer did either because they were genuinely agonizing to talk to, or we both simply cut things off. so of course, i got even more used to just not talking to people, i mean, a handful still made the effort to try to, but there's only so much you could do when the other person treats you like brick wall. the two years following that were definitely the worst of it, though. i just outright didn't try to talk to anyone ever. never pursued any conversation that went outside of what i or the other person needed. i dropped out after those two years. mostly because my mental state was in the drain and i genuinely needed a different environment to be in. that school was bad in a lot of ways but i can't be bothered to rant about it. so for half a year, i tried a different program, was half on and half off, so i saw people even less then before, and almost never had to talk to anyone. can you guess what happened? yeah i dropped out again. there was plenty of things that happened inbetween, that certainly contributed to these outcomes, but there's no point in listing them. the fact of the matter is that presently, i know close to no one. text amd sound that cannot be attributed to faces makes for bad company. it loses it's human feeling after a while, and soon enough, i'll be too dissassociated from them to want to be there. why put up with people who just drain me for my energy to boost themselves. of course, it's not like they're intentionally doing it. it's just the literals of what's going on. sure, i can have brief moments of joy with these people who i can barely understand in terms of mentality, and put up with their weird ways of doing things and treating things, but that's exhausting. so instead, i'll take up as much time as i have patience, and once i lose it, i'll just be on my way. maybe i'll force myself outside every now and then instead. there's not much that i'd really wanna do, but preoccupying my time is good enough for me. it doesn't matter if i get anything done or do anything with this time, so long as it's different from the last day, that'll be enough. maybe every now and then i'll check up on the others, but i refuse to devote more time then my mental is willing. it might sound rude, but i simply don't care anymore for these exhausting interactions. it feels like they're constantly running in circles, running into each other, and never diverting from their paths regardless. i miss seeing people, hearing them, being able to actually feel the presence there, even when i'm not looking. it'd be nice to hug someone, but i won't get my hopes up for anything like that. simply being seen will be enough for now. knowing that i exist, even briefly. if i don't make a conscious effort to try and at least act like a normal person, i'd probably drive myself into depersonalizing myself or others, both are quite bad. meeting new people would be nice too, though i'm not sure if that'll happen. in my experience, it seems like i'm hard to approach, not sure why though. maybe i'm just being silly, who knows. i've never tried, so who's to say i'm even right? nevertheless, i'll try to keep myself offline for a while. i think that would be best.

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october thirtieth twenty twenty five

2025-10-30T17:45:28Z

how do i start these again? my last entry was a bit different mostly for no reason at all other than for the purpose of getting out thoughts that i'd left unsaid for who knows how long. as i am now, that doesn't matter anymore. the days recently have been certainly uncomfortable. physically i've been noticing some things that i should've probably noticed sooner. firstly, my eating habits. which is to say, the lack of them really. i had for the most part, stuck with the routine of eating only once a day, eating only a somewhat substantial meal. which isn't that great, but it least i was eating at all, i thought. it wasn't like i was starving myself or anything. if i didn't feel hungry i didn't eat. and even when i did i tended to hold off on it until it was absolutely necessary. wasn't good by any means, but it wasn't terrible either. something else i noticed about it though, was that seemingly after every single meal that i had, i felt awful. terrible, physically everything felt off, like food was a foreign object being forced into my body. no matter what it was, i felt sick to my stomach and my mouth always had this gross aftertaste. and mentally it carried too, i suppose out of connection to my physical being. so obviously, i also felt like shit mentally after eating. it wasn't like i was actively disliking the act of eating or anything, it's just hard to be positive when your body hates food. that probably led to the developing of this bad happen in which i avoid eating. no wonder i'm considered underweight, though the that doesn't bother me too much. sure, i don't really like how i look, but when did i ever care about how i presented myself to others? especially when i also technically hide how i look even then. wearing baggy clothes has been my go to for the longest time, for a variety of reasons. some more rational or stylist then others. although the reason as to why i'm trapped into wearing these clothes is mostly due to the fact that i hate when people can make out my body shape. i'm not comfortable with people being able to tell what my body looks like. i don't want them knowing what i exactly look like, or have them pick up on things about myself without me telling them. there's a lot people can figure out about you just by looking at your body, how you dress, the way you hold yourself up in posture and speech. i hate it. so i do my best to hide as much of myself as possible to people. i dress in a way that hides my body, my arms and legs, my chest and stomach. i speak without putting any unnecessary words or small talk. i stay constantly aware of my posture and how i'm walking and acting. strangers are just strangers, and their thoughts about me matter more then i wish they would. even if i'd never see them again, even if they'll forget me in an hours time, i cannot stand the thought of being in someone else's mind. i don't like knowing that they see me, think about me, have impressions of me i'll never hear. they'll just think, and know, and i won't. so i impose as much of this act onto them, so that maybe i can take comfort in knowing they'll think of other things. things that i can predict and expect. i much as i'd like to say otherwise, other people's thoughts of me affect me greatly. positive or not, simply knowing that fact aches my heart, plagues my mind. as much as possible, i must take comfort in this appearance that i try to force, so that maybe they'll think of me how i want them too. not that i'll ever talk to them or ever see them again. at least baggy clothes are comfy, really warm and soft, most of my clothes. helps with the fact i get cold a bit easier then most people, probably because of the eating thing. i don't think that's a disorder or anything, i think. i'm probably just subconsciously trying to find ways to hate myself. or maybe something's genuinely wrong with my body and i should get it checked out. i won't, but it's a fun thought to think about. but i feel as though most of my problems are rooted in my actions, not factors out of my control. more comforting that way. as for my mentality lately, it's definitely been going down, and distracting myself from it is working and also absolutely making it worse. keeping my mind of it is nice, until it leaks in and drags down on my mood. this constant back and forth i'm putting myself through is most likely worse then just facing it all at once for one night. i'll be alright. i've done this before and i'll do it again. so in a sense, it brings me some comfort. god, i've used that word a lot in this entry huh? maybe it's a sign that i should stop here for now. i'm sure this is getting awfully repetitive. not that anyone would be here to read these anyways, but i'd like to do the courtesy of at least typing out these as if someone were to. just to say them some time, maybe? if anyone ever does read these, you should say hello, i'm sure we're already acquainted, but it'd be nice to hear someone else's thoughts on these. what i put out here is my rawest output of thought. i would like to know what you think. or maybe i wouldn't, depending on who it is. so maybe, forget that i asked.

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october fourteenth twenty twenty five

2025-10-14T20:10:02Z

a list of things that may or may not be targeted towards a few or more people

complaining about every single little thing you can does not make for good conversation.

threatening to commit crimes against another person over a game is one thing, but being brutally specific about it, especially when you make it sexual or outright deplorable, it another. kinda weird.

doxxing someone, or threatening it, ddosing, etc, over pity things is rather childish. i won't stop you, as i think it'd be funny to see whether you're talking out of your ass or actually face punishment.

speaking of lying, at a certain point you lie so goddamn much that it's actually embarrassing. it makes me cringe even trying to continue a conversation or what i was doing with how much it happens. how you do it so confidently is beyond me, despite how bad you're at it.

trauma dumping because someone pointed out the weird shit you say is not a valid excuse or out. just because some shit happened to you does not excuse how you act as a person, especially in the context of what you did.

i think coming to me to vent is fine, however, bringing it up out of the blue almost every other day and then acting fine the next is extremely annoying. especially when you do nothing to improve it.

on that note, refrain from telling me when you are going to or have hurt yourself, directly. at least ask first if you're going to do it, so i can tell you no.

a bit simple, but just listen to a "no". shouldn't be that hard, i hope.

it's nice that you're in a relationship, but being so overly sexual infront of several people who definitely are not comfortable with the things you're saying is kinda inappropriate, yknow?

roleplaying while people are having a normal conversation makes me gag, please i'm just trying to talk about my interests to someone else.

you are not edgar allen poe, you can articulate your issues without trying to make a shitty poem about it.

once or twice is fine. but the fact you keep asking your friends to do nsfw commissions with you becomes a little weird after a while.

all i ask is that you go get a checkup at the doctor. that's literally it cmon please.

you lie as well, though not in a obnoxious sort of way. it seems more like you just have a few things you're shy about. i don't mind as much, though you're a bit bad at hiding it sometimes.

you copy a lot of the shit i do, even the really small shit. i don't know why, and i hope you stop since i do not view as that close of a friend.

i feel so bad about your partner, cause either they're way too complacent with how you act, or completely oblivious to it. whatever happens is deserved.

complaining about habits that people you indoctrinated into doing is genuinely some of the most irritating shit i've had to listen to. you are a disease that spreads and rots the people around you.

i wish you heard me more often, especially when it's something important i'm telling you. i know it's not your fault, but it still hurts yknow? and saying something twice really makes it lose it's meaning.

making a character your entire personality, and i mean quite literally, is delusional. you are not "them" you are you, grow to be comfortable in your own skin for once.

you fell for the trap not twice, but three times. and you're making the exact same mistakes again. i don't even pity you at this point, you're just an idiot.

i should talk to you more often, you're genuinely a better person than half the people i choose to talk to.

how is half of your music taste great and also complete and utter dogshit?

why is the only thing you listen to depressing?

your way of comforting or responding to someone venting is really bad. responding with crappy half assed responses that sound straight out of an instagram page is just making it worse.

i gave you money twice, quit expecting it from me, you don't need it clearly.

how someone like you is friends with people like this is beyond me, please escape while you can.

that's enough ranting i think. i won't ever say these things to their respective people, but they'll be here in case anyone ever reads this. fuck you! i hate you! and to some of you! i love you! thank you!

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september first twenty twenty five

2025-09-02T02:54:07Z

hello again. haven't added to this in quite some time, have i? things did not change, which is unfortunate but expected nonetheless. i'm still miserable, more so than other times, as i am now. i tried getting on a sleep schedule, thinking it'd do something for me. took a month or so, but eventually i got there, where i am now. didn't change anything of course. why would i think that if meds and therapy didn't work, a sleep schedule could? i'm still on said schedule, since there's really no reason to change it. besides, it's not like i do anything with my time these days, so it doesn't matter when i sleep and wake up. i could ruin it again, but i guess part of me wants to feel like i have any semblance of a normal life, or even routine. i don't, and i'm not sure if i ever will, and that's fine. it has caused me to talk to my friends less, in some cruel twist. give myself a proper sleep schedule, but never be there to talk to anyone. so all i do, all day now, is the same, but alone. i miss them, i do, but i'd have to abandon this little bit of normalcy that i have. and even when i could talk to them, spend time with them, it all feels so draining. every time it happens, i just lose all interest and energy to do anything. i want to do something, but actually doing it feels so empty now. what do these fleeting moments of joy and laughter matter when in the back of my mind i can feel it eating away at me. how can i enjoy anything when i know deep down nothing has changed. i can't ignore it anymore, or even "accept" it. i've already done both, and they get me nowhere. i could reach out for help again, like i have before, but it's never gotten me anywhere. it'll play out the same way it always does, with me complaining and dragging on about the same issues i've always had, shooting down any responses they give until eventually i just give in and let them say whatever they want to, and agree as if i'll actually improve or try anything. in some way or another, that's how it always goes. so why bother? i'd just be wasting both our times, and i'd rather not be a burden on their mind. so i just won't bring it up, not to anyone, or just tell them i'll be fine and that i'll power through it. this cycle will keep going and going until eventually something new happens. i don't know what that'll be, but i have some ideas. either i die, which is expected but so empty in it's conclusion. all this just to be a statistic? i suppose that's the end for my people my type, but still. part of me hopes i have something at least a bit more interesting to end off on. another idea is that i call for help again, in a more drastic measure. not sure what might happen, either just get sent to some hospital or ward, come back, likely with nothing fixed about me. if it's anything like the last times, it'll just push off my urge to cut for a few weeks, simply so i don't get sent back. the other idea is that i stick around long enough for him to do something about it. i don't know what would happen if this occurs. he's in just as rough of a spot as i am, so i worry it could only end terribly, or somewhat well. but i don't want to drag him into this, or at least think about it. if i die, i want him to live on, since if i choose to do that, i'm entrusting that he can continue on without me. i worry that he'll do something rash otherwise. and now that i've thought about it, it doesn't matter which of these happens. whatever happens, happens. of course part of me hopes for the best, but i know realistically that i don't have the capacity to strive for it. not now. every day is just so tiring, more and more, the more straining the simple things get. i don't want this, death is a scary thing, no matter how hard it's gotten for me. it just gets less so each time. and one day i might just convince myself that it isn't. i don't know what to do. all i can do now is just wait. nobody is going to save me, nor will i ask for anyone to. i'll just let life run it's course, whatever that might end up being for me. i'm tired of trying, so just let me get pulled away by the current of this river called life. sorry, that probably sounded corny or weird given how blunt the rest of this was. what might be more stupid is me apologizing for something no one will ever read. so i suppose i'm only saying that to myself. i wonder if i deserve forgiveness? maybe i should ask for it given that i've been a burden on pretty much anyone i've ever met. i should just go to bed.

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june sixteenth twenty twenty five

2025-06-16T10:14:01Z

if i were to, hypothetically, go away forever, it'd be easy, and unpreventable. and quite straightforward too. there's a road, that as far as it goes, it does eventually end. farther and farther you go, until there's just dirt and unused space. until it ends, with nothing around but empty ground, sand, and dead plants. and there i could do away with myself in any fashion i desired. all hypothetical, of course. but it's good to be prepared, right? there's not too much significance to this location in all honesty. i've only been there once with a certain uncomfortable person, and not once again. maybe i should go back to that place, see if anything has changed. would definitely cause some problems if it did. all the other details about leaving a note or what not is yet to come, if ever. but if i do, you can refer to this. if anyone ever reads this, that is. i never know if i'm just typing aimlessly to no one or if anyone truly sees what i say. and i think i'd like it to stay that way. don't give me hope. it only makes things harder. makes the pain sting longer. you won't listen, even if i did tell you to though.

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may twenty second twenty twenty five

2025-05-23T06:17:42Z

writing again. things haven't changed much since i last did, though i was correct about what would happen. having gone to the hospital and everything. wasn't as bad as last time, but it wasn't particularly good either. you get used to it though, and it's not as hard to get through the days, like any other circumstance. i can't say i feel any better about myself following my little visit, as even now, i feel like there's a suffocating grasp around my heart. my mental being dragged down the the heart strings of my core. thinking too much about small things pokes holes in my confidence. a more simple and less abstract way to put it is i feel like shit and it takes very little to panic me. regardless, i'm fine, sounds repetitive, but i really am. i'm not going to die or anything. and really, that's all that i need to consider myself fine. still, feels like shit to have to deal with it nonstop. i think that's all i'll right for now.

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march seventeenth twenty twenty five

2025-03-18T05:55:42Z

hey, it's me. this'll likely be going in two places and just copied and pasted to the other. to give you a short summary, no i'm not killing myself but i'm probably going to be away for a bit. as for a longer summary: it goes without saying that my mental is still getting worse, no shit. usually this isn't worth noting but me being me, i decided to make some not so good decisions. so, there's a good chance that the consequences of them won't be avoidable. i myself don't really know what will happen, it might take some time, or no time at all to happen, but i'm certain something will. if anything, it'll at the very least get me sent away for a bit. not sure how long this time, but that's the least of what's probably going to happen. until then, i'll still be around. doing whatever. i'll try to be sociable but these last few weeks have been eating away at me. it's probably the worst it's ever been for me, both with and without meds. i'm almost certain if i didn't have some of you to live for i'd probably be dead by now. but that's not me trying to force you into interacting with me or making sure i'm not dead. just that, i'm thankful to have you guys. for sticking with me despite how much shit i've probably thrown your way, or how ever much my troubles have caused some for you as well. it's with that said that i'll just express myself plainly, not hiding or ignoring any details. i want to kill myself, i want to slit my wrists somewhere far away to never be found again. i want to stop burdening everyone i know with myself. despite your objections, saying that it'd only be worse without me, or about how many of you care, i still want to rid myself of all of this. i truly do think that i'm just a flawed person, incapable of improving or doing anything meaningful with my life. it's not that i don't want to change, but that i've failed to do so so many times. that no matter what i've tried things seemingly have only gotten worse. i don't know what to do anymore, and i know i've said that so many times before, but now i really don't know what else there is to try. but why haven't i killed myself yet then? why haven't i just left some short message and be over with it? because i still stop myself ever time i try. because i'm still to stubborn to just let go. because i still care about some of you. the only thing i'm still living for is just the few of you who've unwillingly kept me hostage from myself. i mean this when i say that i truly love all of you. too much so, that i myself can't help but feel conflicted about why that even is. maybe that's for the better, since i'm still breathing. whatever it is to keep you all happy right? i know you all want me to improve, i do too, but i currently can't do anything else to make it better. so for now i'll just wait until i inevitably slip up and have the matter taken out of my hands. with that said, thank you all. i love you for what you've done and i cannot repay you, or give you what you want for me. maybe something magical will happen and i start improving, but i wouldn't get your hopes up. and, thanks for reading this horribly put together block of text updating some of you on my mental state. i'll be around for a while, good night, probably.

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february seventh twenty twenty five

2025-02-08T07:11:02Z

i'm here again. so soon, too. it's fourteen now. i asked the question again, they said forty seven. now obviously so i don't kill myself by bleeding out i need a better way to do this. so i'll just combine four and seven and do eleven. still a lot, but it's nothing i'm not used to. i let things bother me again, which is how i got here. i wish i could stop these things from happening, but until i can, i'll just be doing this. i'm so tired.

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february fifth twenty twenty five

2025-02-06T03:25:39Z

hello again. i'm not dead, surprisingly. a lot has happened though. i got sent to residential care, or in other words a short-term psyche ward, and was absolutely miserable. i dropped out of highschool a short bit later, and now we're here. why might i be writing to this finally after months of silence? well, after residential, i was told that i'd be sent back there in the case that i cut again. bummer, right? since i did that a shit load, i had to completely stop unless i wanted to be even more miserable than i already was. i kept up holding off the urge for a good damn while. nearly three months! that's pretty good, i think? well, that was going well until today. and what better way to break my streak than my locally known shitface of a dad. same old same old, always on my ass about something since it's what he considers being a good father is like. and i just, gave up, i guess. i said fuck it, who cares. not me, at the very least. so i dug through my knives and found a sharp enough one. one two three. hey, i still got it. four five. and oh did it feel so good. it still feels so wonderful. to deny myself this pleasure for so long, god how did i do it? i got a bit pissed off again later, so after i finish writing this i'll probably do it again, just for good measure. or maybe i'll finish the count on this, just to keep track. i never did take good note of my numbers before. maybe i will now. six seven eight nine.

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november eleventh twenty twenty four

2024-11-07T17:14:12Z

hello again, to no one in particular. not much has changed, i'm still the same. been hanging out with those few as per usual. shortly did with my priors. they're all nice. each of them. wish i could do more for them sometimes. i asked the question again, his answer was eight. and so i did eight. two, seven, seven, nine, eight. one of them might know what that question means, no, he definitely does. he's probably the closest to me besides "as", but that's for obvious reasons. he gets what i'm doing. not just on a surface level either. he gets that this is just how i have to do things. it is, no pun intended, engraved into how i am as a person. it's not just something i can stop doing because someone is worried about me. at least for now. and i appreciate him for that. as unhealthy as that is, it's the kind of friendship i can really bond in. he's got his own issues, and so do i. we help each other, and we both come out more of less the same. not changing is better than getting worse, at the very least.

had another odd dream that i meant to send here earlier but never got to doing it. i looking at a statue of an angel in a graveyard, might've been gabriel, i'm not sure. there was that weird religious music that they always played in ads and infomercials blaring in the distance, and i just kept walking around it, looking at it from different angles. then, i spoke to me, i don't know what it said, but it said something to me. the statue moved, turning it's head towards me, and i got up off it's casket and towards me. someone screamed, not me, but someone else. i'm now seeing someone else be attacked by other religious statue, as they move unnaturally and fly towards them. i see this happen through their eyes as i then see the same happen through another's eyes. this happens i few more times, the statues being of cupids, guardian angels, mary, and other angelic figures. it wasn't dark while this was happening either. maybe around dusk? all the while the music just kept getting louder and louder. and then i woke up.

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october thirtieth twenty twenty four

2024-10-30T08:37:53Z

if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?

i'm not sure what to do. i'm exhausted. skipping from happiness to happiness until i inevitably fell. i know i've been here before, but each time it only cements my view. i'm used to it. i see no point in trying. this is my reality, this is life. many will say otherwise. some will say that this is just a phase, or a hurdle, or some other form of the same statement i've heard hundreds of times. my view of it is that this is just how i am. whether i am successful in life or not, this'll be the case. to be happy for others, and to be miserable with myself. to hate myself, and to love others. i'm sure i'm capable of more, but it's hard to care about someone you hate. would you want to help the person whose the root cause of all your problems and will continue to be even if you help them? probably not, hopefully. that's where i find myself. they want me to improve. i want to make them happy. i can't fathom being deserving of anything good. they want me to be happy. i am, for them, but not myself. i do everything for myself, when it only can do good for them. but never enough to where i'll shine more than them. i don't want to. allow me to lay on a bed of nails, so that you can stand painlessly. i'll be fine. don't worry about me. forget about my issues. you and i know the outcome. if you forget about me, i'll last as a good memory. and when you find someone new, someone better, someone more deserving than me, you'll never bat an eye. people disappear all the time after all.

if i die alone in the desert and no one is around to find me, am i really dead?

not like it matters.

even if i tried to kill myself, i'd fail. i know this for a fact. trial and error, yknow? but at least now i know why i was afraid then, and now, and in the future too. i may hate myself, but i am equally as selfish. a parasite of sorts. i leech onto those i care about, and through them i live. i need them to live. but i am slower causing them pain. i'm taking away something from them. i will die without them. if i didn't have them, i would've been six feet under before i ever hit six feet above. and yet, they wouldn't leave me. i hate it, i love it, i don't get it. why me? why'd you have to find me? you could've chosen anyone. had better times, been happier, one less weight on your shoulder. but you found me. i hate myself every day for cursing you with my existence, but now i've cursed myself, too. my love for you all is stronger than my own self hatred, yes, but they coexist. i'll do what i can for you, no matter what, but don't expect the same to myself. the most convenient thing to happen to both of us is my death. through coincidence. bad luck. a mistake. wrong place, wrong time. then, i wouldn't have to hurt you with my own doing. i would be free of blame. you'd be sad, yes, but you wouldn't blame yourself. you could live with it. no more burdens. no more parasites. but that hasn't happened, has it?

i exist for you.

i miss you.

it's been a while, not long, only a few days. and yet, i yearn for you. i miss you. you give me a comfort that soothes my mind. though brief, you allow me to think for just a moment that everything will be alright. that somehow, this'll work out. so long as you were there, i didn't care what else happened. let me hold you. please, comfort me. i need to hear you. just a bit. i might be obsessive. i might be possessive. i hope that's okay. it's not going to change. i am sorry, as always. and thank you, again and again.

i love you.

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october twenty fifith twenty twenty four

2024-10-26T04:07:50Z

hello hello, it's my dumbass again. had a weird ass dream last night. weird? concerning? probably both. i was with "as", i don't exactly remember what we were doing. but, whatever we were doing or talking about, at some point i jokingly referenced or mentioned cutting myself over whatever was happening. instead of acting how we usually would, he was flirty about it(?). he was okay with it, in fact encouraging about it. somehow, he had a specific knife that i've used to cut before. and i was equally okay with it, happy, even. i gave him my arm and he helped me cut my arm. one after the other, from the forearm to my wrist. and then onto the other arm, i gave him it and he held it oh so softly, so carefully, but cut into my flesh with such enjoyment and pleasure. he enjoyed cutting me. i enjoyed being cut. he pulled up my shirt, and help me down. he dragged the blade harshly against my stomach, moving further up my stomach to my chest, and back down. he kept cutting vertically, then horizontally. at some point he cut deeply into my upper chest, whilst biting into one of the cuts. he bit hard, deeper, and pulled. ripped out a piece of me. and he was happy. he enjoyed it, was pleasured by it. he looked me in the eyes, and wordlessly, almost in a mutual agreement, he plunged the knife into my chest. and then i woke up. rather silly, yes?

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october twenty first twenty twenty four

2024-10-21T17:38:52Z

yeah, it's me again. can't say things have gotten better, more likely worse, but i do feel better, i think. i'm not sure. but i'm not having a panic attack, so that's something. made my sister cry yesterday. turns out she cares a lot more than i thought. bless her heart, she worries too much. granted, i definitely set it off this time around, but i didn't think she'd cry over it. sure, i alluded to suicide and all that, but christ, i didn't expect that. i honestly feel a bit bad about it, but i made sure she was alright afterwards, to which, i think she was? we had to go out to eat for a family members birthday, so it was a bit odd to be in the same car talking about such a stuffy topic. i knew she had her own issues and much worse anxiety issues than me, but i didn't think it was that bad. regardless, i hope she's doing alright. the dinner itself was fine, caught up with the two people in my step family i actually like, had some decent food, and left without a hitch.

it was probably saturday? yeah, saturday. two friends i was just talking with, my mood was steadily going down. a lot of things contributed to it, but it was constant, so it was inevitable. two favorite numbers, nine and seven. and so, with nothing better to do other than take the edge off, i started on my other arm. until recently, i'd only ever cut on my left arm. not sure why honestly, but now the numbers are started to even out. the ratio is probably four to one though, so that'll take a while. not exactly a good thing to strive for, but oh well. it stops me from killing myself, so i might as well. scars are better than an everlasting wound on others. i worry about my friends though. espeically "cl". he seems to have much worse family issues than i initially thought. but god, actually hearing the argument, the interaction between him and his father, fuck i worry. i really hope he doesn't do anything rash, and hopefully that disappointment of a father doesn't either. jesus.

on a less serious note, i can finally tie my hair back again. feels good to finally have long-ish hair again. i know i probably look gay as hell, but i'm fine with that. being a bit fruity is part of me, after all. hopeful those applications i put in for jobs actually get reviewed. been a few weeks and they still haven't given me a response. a no would be helpful, not just radio silence. but time will tell, i suppose. on other news, going to the gym has gotten easier, i'm not as sore, and the workouts feel easier. and i am seeing results. weird. not that i care too much about results, but god i am going to look like so much more of a twink now. do i care? no not really. i kinda like it. god that is gay.

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october fifteenth twenty twenty four

2024-10-15T16:18:47Z

hi, it's me again. so i'm much more level now, sorta, kinda, not really. but who cares, not me, at least. i think i got more delusional, or maybe i just got comfortable with the fact i'm actually so fucking ill. but whatever, who isn't, right? i am somewhat better though. better than crying or having a panic attack. shame he had to see that again, but i'm also glad he was there. he definitely made the process go by quicker. probably stopped me from making it as bad as it could've been. i feel so bad about it still. i shouldn't do this sort of thing to the people i care about. they shouldn't have to constantly worry about my wellbeing. just let me be there for you, and make you happy. stop worrying about me. i know you want to return the favor, but i'm already a lost cause. you all aren't. you have potential. you can be ten times better than i could ever do. it's for that reason that i devote most of my time to you all. i want the best for you. i hate myself, so the least i can do is make life easier for you. i only wish i could take the burden of my existence off your shoulders, but i'm too selfish for that. so let me be selfless for you all. it's the least i can do. i won't achieve much in my life, but you all will. i know you will. so i will do my best to help you get there. don't worry about me. don't even consider my wellbeing. i am me, and you don't have to dive any deeper than that. i'll live for you, so that i don't have to live for myself. and when i die, do not mourn me, it would be a waste of time. you have better things to be doing. you have your whole life ahead of you. i never did, but i never needed to have one in the first place. having friends is all i need in my joke of a life. and i am the grand act of the circus. i am the last joke that makes the crowd go wild, and leave with good memories. after all, all circuses are cheap tricks and jokes. and if there's one thing i'm good at, it's tricking myself, and everyone else. so much to the point, i don't even know the truth myself anymore. does the truth matter at this point? i don't think so. besides, ignorance is bliss. maybe i'll "get better", but i don't really care whether i do as of now. whatever happens, happens. i only ever follow the flow of things. if i do get better, that's cool. if i don't, at least i'll be memorable. and if i stay the same, i wouldn't mind either. the cycle never changes. this is my normalcy. this is my reality. it's what i'm used to. it's comfortable. like laying on a bed of nails. it's still nails, but if it's evenly distributed, you'll be fine. trying to move only makes it worse, so i might as well just lie there and accept the situation. the dog begs, and the cat scratches.

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october tenth twenty twenty four

2024-10-10T21:22:47Z

much like most things in my life, it takes one mistake for it to be derailed out of control. halted to a stop, with no means to proceed until i force it to. it's like any other process to me now. breathing, eating, drinking, sleeping, all things you have to do to take care of yourself. to keep yourself in check. to make sure things don't get worse. that you live. this is much like those things, at least now it is. if my mental takes a downturn, fix it by punishing the physical. four lines.

after each successive one, my mind drifts to ease. the thoughts slow down. my mental calms itself. i feel better. there was no shame or self hate in the act. it helped me. and in all honesty, i deserved it, so why should i feel bad about it? it was merely to atone for my mistakes and flaws. and once done, that's all there is to it. i don't have to feel worried anymore. my body is in worse shape then my mental, and that's fine. it can heal. it will heal. my body does that for me. but when it comes to my mental, i have to do that myself. and so i have. ten lines.

and as my body lets itself down from it's strong feelings, i am at peace. i don't stress about anything anymore in this moment. brief while it might be, maybe a day or two, i feel happy, i believe. i am not afraid. if this is what i have to do, i will do it. my body is the price, and my mental is paid. so why worry? this is fine. seventeen lines.

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october eighth twenty twenty four

2024-10-08T17:29:23Z

well, it's not like this is the first time i've done one of these, but i don't really use blogging websites like this much so . . . regardless, this'll hold the same use as those anyways. i'll probably link this silly thing to other socials at some point, when there's some stuff read (at least). as for my old outlets, i'll probably shut down those accounts, since this'll replace them. if you, yes, you, i know what you are, want to archive them for whatever reasons, you got like . . . two weeks, maybe, probably, most likely.

as for how life is, it's been a rather interesting mix of everything i do and don't want. just a day ago i was burning my eyes with how much i was crying and now i'm just relaxing. it's odd, honestly, how quickly emotions can just switch so suddenly. at least this time i actually reached out to someone. too many times do i let myself just suffer alone. i know they want to help and that it'd be mutually beneficial to do so, but all rationalism just falters when the slightest thing gets under my skin. i mean, i can manage alone somewhat well, but my coping mechanisms aren't exactly advised by my therapist. but oh well, i don't mind a bit of pain if it makes up for my mistakes, flaws, and misjudgments. "my dear atonement", as it was put, as i said, as i will claim. though, maybe, in the future, if, and when, i get better, maybe i can laugh about this with them, without having those looming thoughts in the back of my head. hell, maybe we can even play tic tac toe on my arm. on other news, i applied for a few jobs finally, so i'll have some spare cash in my pockets. additionally, i'm finally returning to the gym after ages of procrastination. and holy shit do my legs feel sore. fuck, i'm out of shape. i mean, i'm like 20 pounds below for the average weight for my height and age. but ya know what i mean. as for the more boring priorities, kinda slacking hard as hell on schoolwork, but i'll get to it when my motivation isn't focused on some of the most bottom of the barrel games. it would save me a panic attack every week if i did that. but like . . . i reallyyyyyyy like spending 8 hours in vc in the same vein. god i am so pathetic. lmao.

i really need to get back into my old hobbies. photography, drawing, game design, and the list goes on . . . but now that my schedule is actually getting filled up, it'll be tough to make time for them. maybe they're situational anyways. but i do wanna get better at them. i'm already decent at all of them, but i know i can be better. but god is actually doing the practice a pain. my adhd riddled brain cannot muster the attention span of anything requiring more than 20 seconds. unless it somehow really interests me. i could just use some ideas for drawing. some really odd shit that no one draws, awkward poses, weird characters, or maybe just some shit that doesn't make logical sense. yeah, that sounds good. if only i was that creative.

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