hk&tn

high and dry - radiohead

ginkgo- panchiko

crack baby - mitski

dagger - slowdive

pillow - malcolm todd

tower of memories - ivri

hero - meego

in my room (acoustic) - julia wolf

duvet (acoustic) - bôa

tragic girl - weezer

come back to me - rm

I wanted to go into engineering because the one I loved wanted to be an astronaut. I would have built the ship, the steel and fire, bolts tightened with shaking hands, just to send her to the stars, and call that distance love.

I wanted to go into engineering because my best friend was going to pursue it too. I imagined us fussing over the same blueprints, eraser shavings collecting between us, our companionship drawn between the lines, something that wouldn't smudge.

Losing them both has left a hole in my heart and in my mind, like a train that has already left the station while I am still standing there, not knowing where I was supposed to go.

I do not know what my future is anymore. I wish I was understood. I wish they had understood me and stayed.

Maybe I should go into literature instead, to learn the weight of a single word, how one sentence can hold and ruin everything.

Would I finally be able to say what I have always wanted to say and be heard? Would I find the exact sentence I should have spoken, the one that won't push people away, the one that would make them stay?

I feel as though everything that leaves my mouth turns against me, as if my voice is a blade that only knows how to cut.

I have nothing good to say. They got bored of me. That must be why they left.

So I will write. I will write to express myself without my voice being heard.

On paper, I won't interrupt. On paper, I am not too much. My page won't flinch, won't look away, won't get tired of me.

No one will know these words are mine unless I sign my name.

read yaoi and listen to twice while skipping class :P

It just has to happen. I'll keep lying to everyone and myself that I want to live. But my goals and joys are all temporary and conditional. I'm conflicted between the choice to write an obituary to everyone, say what I've always wanted to say, make my true feelings be known, or to be silent. What do I have to fear? I know I will be judged if I keep my silence; some will say they don't know where it came from, or will say they always knew something was wrong with me.

I won't fear judgment, the very thing I still face as I am alive. I don't forget every single time I was too honest about my feelings when venting, either to the wrong people or at the wrong times. I don't forget all the times my vulnerability has been used against me, to mock me, to hurt me, to remind me. I don't forget times where nobody could help me; they pitied me, they tried, but I'm still stuck in the same place I was left in. I don't forget those who showed me kindness, to let me feel what being saved felt like, and it would be gone in an instant. My fear of being misunderstood is irrelevant because I am not present in this life, hence why I should die.

And when I do, I will regret it to an extent. Why do I have a prominent enough existence to affect people, but not enough to be important? My family will hurt. They will cry, but will it be really because they regret hurting me? Will they feel the true extent of their negligence and ignorance that shaped me? Or will they just cry because I finally died? Can't help but feel better knowing I can't be mocked for trying and failing like all the other times.

When I die, I won't be able to hear them tell me it's my own fault and I was selfish. Will my friends cry? Will they regret ever being friends with me? I wish they wouldn't. I feel like most people will start acting like hypocrites, like I've always known could be possible, or maybe they will actually grieve and I would have ruined their lives. I would hate myself. But there isn't anything worse I could do to myself when I am dead.

Maybe if I reincarnate, with enough self-hatred, regret, and willpower, I'll remember to kill myself in my next life to atone for the harm I caused in this life. From now until my last day in this body and in this life, I will stay stuck in my own head, fantasising about a life where I am truly happy, and I am who I've always wanted to be.

I do wish I could die violently, cursing out everybody and also apologising to everybody. But it just doesn't seem very convenient. Maybe I'll make it simple, try to get hit by a car, get poisoned, accidentally fall from too high, submit to a killer, I don't know.

Being wanted

Making money

Binge eating my favourite food until I'm sick

Being good at something

Expressing my emotions poetically 

Empathising with others

Being held and touched

Seeing beauty in what I created

Being praised

Being remembered

Being missed

Being needed

Telling the truth about how I feel

Persevering

Making sense

Looking cute and pretty

My hair and bangs are perfect

Being useful

Knowing what I can do

My makeup is pretty and not itchy

My clothes are ironed

My bed is clean

My hair is clean

My skincare is working

Others admiring me

Obsessing over something and someone

Having someone to run to

Being left alone when I need to

Sleeping uninterrupted

My imagination 

My hard work paying off

My loved ones are happy