RewriteTheHero

You feel like you’re drowning but you can’t bring yourself to do anything about it? When you have a million and one urgent things to do but you literally cannot force your body to move a single inch so you just lie in bed paralyzed? When you dread the consequences of the things you missed and are screaming at yourself in your head but still nothing changes? When you know you have the option to go get help but you fear that whoever you reach out to would just condemn you for your idiotic actions and tell you to wake up? When you have passed the point of anxiety and dread and self depreciation and now you just lay there numb and burnt out? Yeah… today is one of those days…

Tenki wishes his violin wasn’t as expensive as it was.

Tenki wishes he could bash a certain someone’s head in.

As it is, his particular instrument is very hard to come by and so he must settle for fantasizing what it must feel like to bash it against someone’s skull

Ignore this post, I just need to scream into the void for a bit, I’m fine. I also take great comfort in the fact that none of you actually know me (I hope… I’m betting on the fact that none of my friends actually have read my fic after they asked me for the title and then followed my link to tumblr through it…)

My mom says I’m playing the victim card. Sure, maybe I am. Maybe I do avoid facing reality. The idea that if I actually tried that I might actually be able to succeed. The reality that I am a self sabotaging idiot and a quitter. The reality that everything feels hopeless and that there is nothing ahead of me. The reality that most people drown silently, and it seems that I am most people. I am incompetent, I am incapable of getting myself off of my nice little cushion of self pity for one single moment to do anything about it. I am paralyzed by the first step and every step afterwards. I am terrified of the idea that if I actually tried that I still would not be enough. Asking for help feels like admitting to giving up. Needing help is being a burden when I clearly should be able to do things on my own. Sometimes I wish for something tragic to happen to me, I have for years. Sometimes I passively imagine ways I could hurt myself. Imagine easy ways to kill myself. I would never do so, but the thought is there and it scares me how easily and casually the idea slips in with my thoughts. I’m very clearly not as intelligent as people always tell me I am. I am sick and tired of hearing ‘you’re so smart’ day in and day out. I’m not. I’m an irresponsible idiot who plays at genius with a heavy facade of pretentiousness and indifference towards others’ opinions of me. I cry at the drop of a hat for absolutely no reason. I don’t want your pity, I don’t want your care. I just wish I wasn’t so weak to be crying in front of other people. I wish that I did not cry at all. I’m an idiot who can’t do anything right. I am a huge waste of money and time. I am not an investment, I’m a scam. I’m squandering the trust and hard earned money that isn’t even my own. I’m a waste of time and energy and I can’t even bring myself to draw anymore. I waste the time I should be spending on my work by burying myself in distractions. I have so many people who care and are trying to reach out a hand to help, but as I am an idiot, I smack them all away. I should NOT NEED external motivation to actually do what I’m supposed to. It frustrates me that this is what it has come to. I don’t deserve to be noticed. I don’t deserve to be seen. I don’t deserve to be helped. Save your help for someone who will actually be able to use it. Because apparently I am too prideful to actually take the hand that’s offered.

I made a wheel to help me decide on the next scene I should write. I guess the wheel decided that he needed a moment of respite after everything I continue to put him through in the name of being my comfort character

This person is clearly just fishing for ways to make money off of me and clearly hasn’t read a single word of my fic. All they talk about are the words in the summary of my fic. This isn’t the first person to try to make money off of me for this, and it probably won’t be the last. I miss the days when people wouldn’t fake interest only as a way to make money for themselves… I miss when people would actually comment with the intention of engaging with me for the story…