everyday is the end of the world.

every 2-3 months i return to my blade. i stay for a day or two but it is the most peaceful i ever feel. on other days i think i might just crumble under the weight of the endless sky. i have been much happier these last two years. i never thought i would dream of death again. but here i am. i did not think i would live beyond 18 but here i am. it is comforting to be reminded that no matter what i will always have death lingering at my door. waiting as if i have forgotten something. it is comforting to know that even after all this time, all this recovery, there will always be something wrong, unfixable, and unloveable within me. something so rotten that only death understands. only death waits. only death loves. i know i am a person but it is only the days on which the blood seeps through my scars that i feel alive. most days i feel either anxious or numb and i cannot decide which is better. at least the anxiety makes my pain visible. at least there can be witnesses. at least somebody hears the tree when it falls.

i have been crying for 10 years about my father, i realized today. i am nothing like him and yet i hear his voice more than i hear mine inside my head. one day i will stop being angry about this. one day i will be as calm as the breeze. as peaceful as the ocean waves. the birds will chirp and the forest will come alive. but there will be no roaring.

the truth will always be that there's something fundamentally wrong with me. i was born unloveable. there are two kinds of people in this world: those who love easily and those who are easily loved. i will always be the first. my hands burn from carrying the love i have for everyone. and my heart hurts from knowing that i will never be loved the way i love. as the smiths put it, "i know i'm unloveable, you don't have to tell me. i don't have much in my life, but take it - it's yours."

literally been home for the summer for barely 2 weeks and im back to thinking abt cutting every second of the day. my blades r so beautiful.

aaaaaand we're back to cutting to survive

today i was hit with this very strange feeling out of nowhere - of being simply an observer of my family. in that moment, i felt both absent and hyperpresent. like i knew everything about their relationships and traits and habits but i was only a witness. i was playing a side role in their lives. i was a catalyst in their character development. i was there but i was invisible. it was both a terrifying yet comforting feeling. maybe i’m just insane