every morning is the same. i better not get alzhimers. just. getting into the rythm of common mornings, pulling away from scenarios real as the walls and low ceilings, brain tricks as she calls them. fake fake like a magic trick is not magic, the surreal engulfing thoughts are not tangible amd more importantly never will be.

me being beautiful or ugly is not the problem

not the motive

being loved is different than feeling loved

facts are not the point

love can’t save me now

limp i feel nothing but pain comes through i see it im not sure i feel it

do u see me? do u hear ur self??

i can’t see my own blood, im not allowed

im not allowed to feel pain, otger than this unidentifiable metallic fear in me

i wanna die or not be or go away i wanna be able to think and talk

i want to not be me

i can’t let me ask me “are the goid times in my life worth this pain i must go through every now and then? is their a point?” those questions lead me quickly to crying over the helpless hqnds that will never hurt me enough

i can’t hang my self i can’t see the bones of my wrists i can’t bear the thought of drowning

the panic of -no air… haunts me.

draw paint, with what energy i ask

muster up some life from th air and go ask for help

i don’t wanna cry it hurts my head

i wanna die and fast

i can’t really not be sad. it’s ok to be sad?

there is a character that seems to be controlling yet very dostracted and oblivious. makes me laugh on the inside. he’s an idiot but we all depend on him to be honest. there is this very safe, safe woman. her daughter probably hates her or maybe just despises her. there are these faceless one deminsional guys. two of them. so far i didn’t even need to mention their real names. one of then had a line in a conversation in the part i wrote today.

writing is fun. frustrating always. it goes no where. i never say what i want to say, because that’s “boring”. so i emd up writing the same sentiments again and again through many lenses. i talk to my future self here, this is a me post.

im somehow negatively influenced by this show, versailles. the feelings and character development is something to grasp and find in my own writing.

every thing is good im just sad. every every thing is here but i feel empty hollow. خالية.