#diary excerpt

"we tend our fire, cook coffee, read, I find, luxuriously, peacefully, at length."

"Providing there is no pain I shall be happy to go when the time comes; nothing here has really delighted me except Art, the life-experience itself has no fascination for me and the very sight of active humanity invariably fills me with nausea."

KENNETH WILLIAMS (22 Feb 1926 ☆ 15 Apr 1988)

It's been 5 days since Aunt @^^€ has been executed. Mother has been distraught, which surprised me since they were never close. Though I suppose it makes sense, it was because of her that we no longer have to deal with the court. Mother has told me that aunt purposely banished her & father so we could live a life without being too much under public scrutiny. What I find most disgusting though is how the king moved so quickly from his wife to Jane. It's to be expected, he is a pig after all. I wonder how cousin Jane feels about all of this. Anyway, my sister is calling me so I must bid you farewell.

my therapist is not there for me

i’m not there for me

who is there for me?

tldr: pity, pity, loathing.

nothing good is going to come. i won’t let it. i can’t let my family know, calling at 2 in the morning to let them know i’m ready to die. they’re two thousand miles away, what good will it do? to worry them and they can’t do anything. let alone afford the cost.

to let them know where to reach my dog. don’t worry, his food is packaged in the fridge. please don’t worry. the photos you send me, you’re smiling brighter when i’m not around. you’ll still be fine. we only meet once or twice a year. you will be fine. i haven’t been fine. the meds work, but i don’t. i can’t cry. i can’t cut myself, it is painful. i burn myself instead. it’s quicker and cleaner. why do i think this way? why do these thoughts help and comfort me? why can’t my future take hold? why? why do i go from hot to cold in matter of seconds, the way someone changes their expression when they look at me, fills me with a kind of dread i’m not sure is reasonable. i want to be home. but i don’t know if the pain will even stop.

i thought if i poured myself into someone else, i’d be happy. and i was. but the jealousy, the envy, just the absolute anger i harbored in myself, i hurt them. i haven’t a friendship that lasted so long as theirs. if i call the hotline, where will my dog go? how will i know which numbers to call when they take my phone away and my work calls, maybe my family. they never call anyway. once every two weeks. my father reaches out far more than ever since my last incident. it’s more upsetting that he’s the closest thing to me, since he was the cause for all the pain in my family. all of the anger. the fights. the cops who said we should be proud. i should feel shame that he is the one who always reaches out. the woman said she was in the car with her kids. he’s repeating the cycle, with another family.

actually this morning, my brother called me for the first time in his life. i’ve always been the one to call him on the telephone. i thought something was terribly wrong, yet he called. nothing was wrong. i thought he was hiding something. nothing. he just had time to kill. it was intense and i was scared, he’s never called before, but im glad he did.

these thoughts get worse around these times. i wish i can fly to an oasis, binge drink and pretend nothing exists. time has no meaning and life is just this warm beach and i’m drowsy from the sun. but i’m here. how pitiful.