total fucking poser btw i dont even listen to sweverslvt i just like their mascot
i stopped uploading my notes to this account, partly because the ad libs i started featuring became WAY too personal and weird for me to feel comfortable posting this online for (potentially) people to see
usual things. weird jokes, innapropriate language, sh self-termination jokes y'know that kind of stuff
there's a certain effect that being thrown in a proverbial hotbox after classes has on the psyche. mostly, it's the slight isolation and kind of forced reflection that occurs when all manner of efficient distraction is stripped away
there's always a level of forced self reflection when you're spending the night alone in a hotel room. i got that from a fight club clip comments section. now try staying by yourself in what FEELS like a hotle (i.e pool on premises, key, elevator ride, lack of personal possessions, etc etc) and over time the effect has a way of snowballing
i don't know if im healthy. seems like fuckin everyone is "mentally ill" nowadays. over a long enough period everyone and everything hits terminal fatigue, be that mental or metal. i'm still chugging along but with how tough some of these nights have been lately it feels i'm waiting for some part of me to snap
now, i won't get violent, i won't thrash about and scream like some neanderthal, but what i will do is completely bottle everything. like swallowing a grenade practically, if for the sake of this odd metaphor you'd graciously imagine i have some form of durability which allows the explosion to not instantly burst through my skin but instead bounce around in my insides
or maybe not, maybe for the sake of this metaphor i'd still blow apart, demonstrating the futility of trying to bottle that of what you feel
but god fucking damn it man, we live in some fucked up timeline
you can believe in the goodness of people and humanity as a whole like i do, but when attempting to open up or do the right thing or be healthy blows up in your face THIS much and THIS consistently, well y'know. fool me once something something point is maybe im the fucking idiot in believing my parents wont casually say somethign completely horrible and psyche altering because apparently i wasnt crying hard enough or came to them too composed
being an adult is hard and im about to experience that myself. id like to iamgein once i get a little guy to look after i wont look him in the eyes and tell him to grow a fucking pair after he told me hes been having meltdowns and freakouts and pranced about the house screaming and throwing things around
im still bitter about that. im still fucking mad about that. maybe on the off chance you're reading this you'll feel that parentla sixth sense kick in and wanna talk to me about this. maybe we're talking about it right now and you're reading this text to me at the dinner table word for word and asking me to "explain myself"
i don't believe there's anyone in the world that i'd feel safe opening up to other than her, because she doesn't judge. she doesn't turn everythign into some moral lesson. she doesn't dole out one and dones and expect me to fix everything on my own. she doesn't tell me i can tell her anything and then completely fuck me up by saying one of the cruellest things i've ever been told by the kind of person that's supposed to BE there for me my whole life.
in an alternate universe i killed myself after you said that. maybe i dragged myself through hell without one of hers to help me,
and i also know you're not capable of abstract thought
im not writing this to be read, or some cry of help. i'd think by now i'm beyond those thigns
im writing this to feel better, because i feel like shit right now because maybe my mental helath issues aren't fake
i can feel the adrenaline kind of fading as im writing this paragraph. i think i got it all out
if you are reading this, i mean, please just leave me alone
none of these talks ever go anywhere
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