#internet journal

> Now I'm extra silly..... (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ .... <?>

> Dividers by fangedeer <?>

- posted at >> 8:20AM <?>

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— 10 january 2024

today i had my four hour long cinematography class. it was awful, i forgot my lunch, and forgot my keys as i was leaving. our instructor spent so much time talking i was getting sick. the only highlight was a guy from my scriptwriting class recognizing me and asking if i wanted to be in his group with his friend. i’ll see him again tomorrow. always love making new friends!

3 things i’m grateful for:

friends.

books.

my water bottle.

a day of holding myself back from thinking about you, and her, and what you guys are doing joyously without me as company. my heart hurts, and i can't stand to see your faces, yet i look for them on every type of social media for a chance to see if you both are as sad as i am.

because as cruel as it is, i want you to miss me as much as i miss you both. two lost people who i had once called best friends. gone. like i hadn't been worth keeping around. a paper to be discarded after being written on.

it would've been more merciful to just stab me in the chest than to experience this melancholic longing of memories i only seem to cherish.

id rather bleed than cry anymore.

5 Sep. 2023

I hope this September brings you all fog and rain. I hope you take the time to walk through a graveyard, or sit alone on a bench somewhere. September has always been this anticipatingly lonely month. I’ve always considered it the “second new years,” which I think has something to do with school starting, as I always get this wave of motivation to start over. To become anew.

Perhaps its all the weather, and we’re just fools for frost, and that dull gray that blankets everything right before Halloween. I’d like to think there’s a deeper connotation for those of us who prefer desolate weather, some intrinsic layers of gothic woe– there’s not.

It’s simply the changing of tides, the weaning of days, and the cold settling in us all, bringing about an air of comfortable numbness, of feeling alive where life ceases. And while the leaves brown and you start to smell the rain and pavement, a mirror starts to well inside you– one that forces you to look (I mean really look) at the man you have become since summer.

Love,