NOBAD STUFF TO ANYONE JS sometimes im feeling low so i js write whatever comes to my mind like literally buncha useless ranting feel free to not read
But I too, hoped
I too, had something close to my heart, too had my own cherished moments…
So why should I give it all up? Tell me, my dearest, my fragment, why should I? Am I not enough? Don't I too hold dreams in my eyes? Why can't any soul other than mine witness these depths? Why must I always listen? Why can't I show? Why can't I be the flower and not the spring? Why can't I be the one I dream to be, why shall I help the blooming and not bloom? Why am I the ladder not the one climbing?
Was I born to be a catalyst? Those who know me know who I am but none know me but why must I know who they are and them while they don't?
When will my promised fortune descend? This is my call out for help, I feel much shame writing this and if any soul that recognizes my name brings it up, I'll gladly cut off all connections
Who'll read a child's online diary? It's you who'll answer that question
I write and write and write but I never feel content, I started a story but I never completed it, I deleted it from anywhere I wrote it, I regret it
Every story I wrote, ripped apart due to the stormy weathers of my life, I regret not finishing you
One considerate message and I break into a sheepish grin and a tint of pink on my face which instantly goes back to the dull straight mouth half closed eyes face for if I smile for too long I shall cry twofold…the writing that keeps changing topic, who'll read this? And yet you are still here…or maybe not, I don't mind anyways. Why does my happiness feel like a curse, the prolonged period of time I remain happy, the bigger the misfortune I'll face.
I opened the folder in which I collect moments and memories through paper, pictures, anything that may remind me of the past and it did just that and I was not the least bit happy, I cried a good 10 minutes then finally put down the small letter my elder sister wrote to me when we were going through one of the usual times my dad randomly decides to torture our mental state and I cried quite a lot, I thought the next paper would make me feel better… it didn't, it was a letter from my friend saying that'll our friendship is a blessing and tells me never to forget her, I never will but could be she is gradually forgetting that one presence in her life which made it a little bit more light
The next paper would make me happy, right? It didn't it was one of the only stories that I ever completed, I wrote and ended it in the late autumn/ early winter of 2023, the times in which most I knew was fun and joy…ignoring my house and whatever shit that I was pulled through the year before that
The next one…one of the most cherished item that I'll never let go, something I'll keep even if I have to kill myself for it, the folder itself…the very place where my memories were kept hidden away in the form of small objects, projecting my life through their form
And the last and most precious thing I have, the most valueless yet most valuable…my own memories that do not have a form in the real world but once had a moment here, right in front of me and most beautifully I remembered it and never forgot it even if happened almost a decade ago
To know that these memories are now happy moments that you envy is very sad indeed, when I put these moments into a plastic folder I thought that when I see them I'll be happy and think about all the changes and be more optimistic with each memory remembered but oh foolish little me. I only became increasingly melancholic with each item help, with each memory replayed like an old song I listened to years ago
And at last, here I am writing my memories again, so that this time an internet stranger can see them and think and criticize me for living life…
My life isn't even that bad but at some moments I feel like the most lost human in the whole wide universe and so I sit down and cry or sometimes talk or sometimes just look at the sky and hope I find an ambition, I'm not even expecting to make it to 18
It's a sin to commit the 'unthinkable' (that I've thought about multiple times) but do I really care? I'll willingly burn in hell forever then live here, the pain of being burned by a fire is the most painful thing but it's physical and it's the same pain all over…you don't need to have a rest all of a sudden then think it's all over just to be back in the same circle and the loop repeats until you feel like you're in hell
And no, I'm not some emo kid or even depressed, I'm actually quite happy but nowadays I just need somewhere to spill it all out, somewhere where I don't even have to care, somewhere people don't give a damn so I don't have to act all sweet and understanding about whatever is going on in the other person's life while both of us forget I have my own life to be occupied with
Thus comes and end to chapter one of my pathetic attempt of entertaining you