hi idk where to start this
so here it is from a random point i was rambling in my head 💀


REMINDER whenever i say something like "you" or any prn like that i forget what its called uh i am NOT talking to you its like talking to myself what the corny but yeah my diary is sort of just writing out everything i think in that little noggin of mine so of course im just talking at myself up there uhh or something if ts normal

youre (i'm) so fucking stupid are (am) you (i you get the deal) fucking serious. i havent even tried cutting or to kms ever since this school year started and look at this retard now! and for what you may ask well its even more fucking stupid and i barely want to say it because it is like very genuinely solemnly pathetic
"waaa waa i wanna be a kid againn i miss my old life and my old uhh how my house lookeddd" fag stfu its not that fucking deep you still ARE a child so stop being a pussy no one gives a shit about your (my) trauma its nothing compared to that of others who actually DO have the right to think those things sam shut the hell up
ok real reason? brace for impact.. this ho really slit it up because my fucking bathroom was painted a different color 💀. are we deadass? this is genuinely so retarded crine

but its the only part i still have left. right? or well had. everything else in this hoiuse has changed. i thiught of the catwalk, but even that feels different and when going across it. but for some reason the restroom 🥀 was the one thing thats always felt the same through these years
every other room went through something even if it was small. i dont even want to get into it i typed some out but now im just nauseous at the thought simply of my old house layout and shit

so is that really why i cut myself you dumb bitch "hh,.. sob i.. my toilet room wall color wwas the one thing that rrreminded me of my childhood.... ouhhh sob whimper sob tragic" like, are we really dead fucking uzz? how retarded can i get bro like srsly there is no limit

im imaging people i know or knew reading ts like "holy shit this dawg is HELLA dumb no way bih crine bout their upstairs restroom getting painted purplr 😭😭✌️🥀"

i look out my door, its still open
nothing feels the same
its the same house
but not.
im bigger
the house appears smaller, it seems
maybe that's one thing
i dont like change
nor age
nor the mere concept of time or anything remotely close to it

its what i was thinking about in the bathroom
does it matter when im off to college?
will it matter when im on my death bed?
nobody remembers their previous life
they all just die
is it my own problem for not believing in some "afterlife?" is that why i have no hope?
i want to get this life overwith
i tell myself to stop, because my mother, my family will be devastated, i even have myself imagine their faces around my motionless body crying and mourning and wishing
i know i love them more than dearly
but a part of me says it doesnt matter.
wont they die too?

i dont know what's going to happen tomorrow.
i could die this week.
i could die right now.
am i wasting my years on meaningless bullshit?
what can i do that will help me in the future? study? but i already have excellent grades, all above 95s
studying has never been a tool for me, or am i just saying that? sitting down repeating facts over again in my head has never "trained my mind."

should i eat or starve? should i see what happens?
ive been questioning a lot lately
like if this is just a mere simulation
part of me hoping it is, but no, really not, because if i hypothetically woke up one day , i would cry for years searching for my mother

i wonder what could happen to my room.
this is so unbelievably corny.
i liked being a child. but i hated it. i always thought i couldnt wait til i was 18.
but i did like being a kid. i like the thought of me as a child still with my (non-divorced) loving parents, in the toy room, with our old, old tv on
and my grandmother up there too
she was much thinner back then

i remember when my dad barely had a beard
when my parents were younger
i remember waiting at the edge of the kitchen counter every night to run and hug my mom when she came back from work so late
i remember standing at the edge of the counter
even smaller
watching one on one side, one on the other
throwing a black coat, glass, papers, more
i cant tell if i remember it too well, or if im just making this all up
but every time it is brought up around my mother, she apologizes and holds me tight and regrets what i saw as a child. i feel like that means im not making it up, then.
do i wish i could go back?
on my mom sobbing, her in the rocking chair, holding me, while my parents yelled at eachother, the day i was supposed to go to the discovery center, my birthday
i remember another birthday i had, even younger, or actually maybe the same very one but earlier, they called it my "yes-day"
they seemed so happy there
i wonder if at that time i even had a clue what was going on with them
ive always listened too much
to things they say shouldnt be a concern to me
like hearing the threats between loved ones.

this is so stupid.
im ending this now.
and contemplating whether i should continue to the next one or not.

i really hope you didnt really read this far.

Edit

Pub: 20 Feb 2026 16:48 UTC

Edit: 20 Feb 2026 17:04 UTC

Views: 6