#weird diary entries

[topperscumslut]

holy FUCK you guys i found my diary from the summer before high school into freshman year and these are some of the best quotes

“I’m a vegetarian, biromantic grey ace, lmao i actually thought i was on the ace spectrum what the fuck my favorite color is neon pink, my favorite food is nachos, I’m kind of emo, I have a boyfriend, I’m a feminist, I love makeup, I love Harry Potter, and my parents are getting divorced.”

“It’s probably midnight already but I don’t care (what you think as long as it’s about me.)”

“One time [my mom] caught me reading smutty Ahkmenrah fanfiction. Cringe.”

(in reference to my elementary/middle school ex best friend) “Do not trust that fucking bitch.”

“I’m gonna be a brave Gryffindor. I’m turning my light on.”

“And she still doesn’t even realize that we’re no longer friends. What a dipshit.”

(in reference to my Dan and Phil obsession) “My grandma thinks Phil is going to kill me though.”

“I thought my computer had a virus because it wouldn’t turn on but it was just dead.”

“I had a dream last night that some sketchy dude gave me a gondola sandwich and then Welcome to the Black Parade by My Chemical Romance started playing and I cried, making my gondola soggy.”

“The bag smelled like someone shat on a strawberry. So did she. She had lipstick on her temple. God I hate her.”

(quoting said ex best friend) “‘I’m nothing with you!’ No shit.”

“I’m gonna start a Burn Book. Sigh.”

“If he grabs my ass then sugar he’s going down (swinging). And if the guidance counselor asks what I was wearing I’ll slap a bitch.”

“Tomorrow’s the last day of summer. Holy shit.”

“I didn’t realize that I couldn’t just wait 10 years and suddenly be married to a guy who I just learned the name of a week ago.”

(first day of high school, only thing i wrote) “Today’s the day. I’ll be back.”

(one month later) “So I didn’t come back.”

“Her little brother’s a fucking FULL COURSE MEAL.”

(after taking a personality test) “Okay that was insightful. Wait no it just said I have no friends.”

(about the worst man i have ever met) “He has such a great soul.”

“I’m getting old.”

“WHAT IS MY PROBLEM?”

“I have no soul.”

(about my beta fish that i named after Riverdale characters) “I still think Jughead migh die though.” he did “I think he MIGHT have a parasite (ew). Poor baby. 😔”

“I want him to mark me as his. Yum.” you are 14 calm the FUCK down

“I can’t wait til March when he’s 16 and can get a job at Starplex like his dad so he can be my sugar daddy and give my aquatic pets a life of luxury.”

“My life lately has been anxiety attacks interrupted by nachos, vines, and makeout sessions.” still a mood

“He broke up with me. I’m miserable.”

“I have made the decision to reinvent myself.”

“Everyday I’ll ask the people at my tables in every class how their day is going and compliment them occasionally until everyone worth liking likes me too and I’m so popular that everyone’s minds explode. I’ll be like a nice version of Regina George.”

“I’m at the point of giving up.”

“I want him to hurt.”

“I started believing in God again.”

finally after like 5 straight pages of trauma dumping there’s a really fucked up (cuz i can’t draw for shit) drawing of Rizzo from Grease and that’s where it ends LMFAO 😭

[sophiesonlinediary]

i havent cried because of self hatred and stress in so long it feels weird 😭

[wannawrite999]

[haventdecidedyet]

Recently discovered the song Details by Maisie peters and it kills me

[fennopunk]

7th and 8th of March are always bit bizarre days for me.

7th is my birthday, the day I have so many mixed feelings. These days majority of them are very positive, but there was a time when I was convinced that I would die when I was 21. I didn't know it then, but I had been depressed since I was a child. I never was actively suicidal, but there was lots of suicidal ideation, and conviction of my limited time was one form of it. Every birthday felt like a ticking time bomb and I embraced it. My 21th year came, one I thought was my last. It wasn't, and on my 22th birthday the balance of feelings was tipped more on the negative than ever before. I was confused. I was angry. I felt cheated. I hadn't planned for that day to arrive and felt like I had done something wrong.

I have no recollection of how I got past that. Depression can do that. But I did. I worked hard to mend broken bits in me. It's been over a decade now, and while I still don't feel like having much of a party, the 7th is overwhelmingly positive now. Yesterday I spent the evening with my best friend, who I have known since were both babies. She came over with a card, cheese, grapes, muffins and cake candles. We lit a candle on a muffin not much smaller than the cake on my first birthday. We listened the newest episode of a podcast we're both obsessed with and then I played videogames with her. We had a great time.

7th day is celebration of the day I was born and all the hard work I have done to stay here and thrive.

Today's the 8th day, the international women's day. I understand it's origin, and I respect it and the history it stands for with my whole heart. But for me it has been the day of dysphoria even before I knew myself. I am seen as a woman by many people, and even though I am open about being non-binary, my identity is still often ignored, even by people who are supposed to love me. They say you don't have to be a woman to celebrate and get wished happy women's day, and that's true, but at the same time they do not say the same to men around us.

I want to celebrate the 8th for others, but it's hard to find space and energy when I'm trying to keep my own identity from getting brushed away in a box and away from view.

Tomorrow is 9th. Tomorrow is an ordinary Saturday.

[alienerad]

Last night, I dreamed of my hometown again. It’s a recurring dream that haunts me. I feel a deep longing for the city in my dream. I often cry in my sleep. But when I’m awake, I only feel disgust for that place. I know why it appears in my dreams; it’s where my best friend and my first love were. My best friend’s family cut me off because they thought I was gay. My first love was forced into marriage with a 30-year-old man when she was just 12. Every time I wake up from this dream, I want to grab a globe and urinate on my hometown. Sometimes I even wonder if the dream of the hometown is the brain’s strategy to keep me asleep as much as possible, and not wake up when I need to pee! Hell is a horrible place, but there are people whose souls have been doomed to have nostalgia for hell!

[haruichi-mamiya]

y'know i've been kinda thinking about clarence's chrono theater entries recently and like. is it normal for gifted children to have psychiatrists/therapists??? especially psychiatrists/therapists who don't actually reveal who they are???

[gillianthecat]

.

Although I hadn't been particularly following Build or the Kinnporsche actors in general, that show was my entry point into BL fandom and I still see a lot about it and the actors crossing my dash. I tend not to seek out behind the scenes or "real life" information about actors (with occasional exceptions of hyper-fixations on specific people) and stay well aware that I know next to nothing about what actors and their relationships are really like, that what they show about themselves is crafted and intentional and may or may not reflect reality. And so I was slightly surprised to find myself feeling emotionally discombobulated by the news coming out about Build and Poi.

I do not know what happened, and I offer no opinions and guesses on what actually happened, and who in their circles knew what. This post is about me, not them.

I have the urge, always, to know what's happening, to seek out information, to understand the truth of the matter. I thought could stay "neutral" about this, that is, not seek out information but calmly consume what came across my dash. But I just now filtered all the relevant tags I could think of. I want to understand, but the truth is simply not available to me right now. And may never be. And while a part of me feels like it's disrespectful to the victim, whoever they maybe, to not want to know the truth of what happened, the fact is my knowing or not knowing doesn't change a thing about their lives. They don't know me, I have no power over their lives, and that is how it should be.

I think I find this upsetting for a couple reasons. First, I did like Build as an actor. He was the one in the cast who's acting I found most compelling, who seemed the most skilled to me, and I have been curious to see what he does next. So there is that feeling of loss, or worry about loss, that if these allegations turn out to be true, I will not get that. Because even if he gets to keep acting (although the climate for a relatively unknown Thai BL actor is very unlike that for someone like CK Louis so I suspect if the allegations are true he wouldn't get more work) I would not be able to watch him anymore, and so that would be a loss. And, even though I hadn't thought I'd had expectations for him as a person (and even less so after I'd heard bits and pieces about previous bad behavior of his) I am surprised to find I do have a sense of betrayal about it. He does seem like a nice guy. I do like the way he presents himself, at least in the little bits I've seen.

And of course, abuse is just unpleasant. Thinking about real people hurting each other of course is going to make me feel unhappy. In fiction, it's safely contained, there's a narrative arc, and no real people were actually harmed, so I can analyze it, get in my feelings about it. But with rumors of abuse by real people, there is no catharsis available.

And then lastly, there is the confusion of it all. They both have bad reputations in some way or other, there is evidence presented that may or may not be credible, I'm getting everything third or fourth hand and through at least one layer of translation that may or may not be accurate. Fans have strong opinions on either side, "she is a known awful person and so she must be lying," "she posted photos so he must be guilty," and I get overwhelmed by the certainty they show, the stregnth of the connection they seem to feel for these actors and writers they don't know personally.

Most of the people I follow have much more measured takes, recognizing that we (that is, everyone outside of Poi and Build and their inner circles) don't actually know what's happening, but it's only natural to have opinions and guesses about it. And I'm finding that even reading those makes me feel like I too should know what's happening, even though I don't need to and in fact it's impossible for me too. My internal tension between, believe victims, accusations are rarely lies versus everything I've read about her makes her sound like an abusive harasser versus of course that doesn't mean that she's lying and abusers can also be abused themselves versus I don't know what stories that I've read about any of them are actually true. And perhaps a few of the facts I could verify, but, as I said above, it wouldn't help me understand much more and only make me feel worse.

I was reluctant to post anything, because I don't want to add to the speculations and unfounded opinions about this, or clutter up the dashes of anyone else trying to avoid the topic altogether. But I decided for my own sake I needed to get this stuff out of my head and onto the page, so here it is. Not sure if any of the words make sense or manage to convey what I'm feeling, but at least its not rattling around in my brain poisoning my mood.

You are all welcome to come talk to me about your feelings about this news, and how it's affecting you personally, although I'd prefer not to get speculation about what happened, or opinions on who is telling the truth.

[unfortunatelyprofounddaughter]

You are flesh and blood. Bile- filled, Maggot-mouthed girl. The two headed beast of your desire bares it fangs and maw.

[vimbry]

just saw tags from someone saying they "saw a completely empty blog that didn't even have public likes". we have Got to relearn and embrace internet anonymity. you can just do that, if you want.

sometimes people just like to look at things, maybe they DM others to socialise rather than talk publicly, maybe they don't talk at all.

[mxldito]

Dinner Diary #9

CW: Vague mentions of a suicide attempt, mentions of gagging, self harm, feeding off of a dead body, body horror, and a line some may read as blasphemous.

The world looks darker every time I see it. As though a dark cast has been thrown over my eyes. I can hardly see it, I see it stirring more than I see it itself. It's growing out of dead, muave muscle that still slowly pulsates with stolen blood. Everything below the waist is fused in and its arms strained against a thin membrane of stretchy tissue, and its skin was the same color as its prison. It could break free if it wanted to badly enough. And through the dimness, from behind the long black hair that hangs in its face, eyes of gold pierce through: "Do you remember when we first met?"

I didn't answer.

"I danced before your eyes, only for a second. You were scared. You got so scared. You thought you were going to be sick, so you heaved but nothing came out. There was nothing in you anymore." It throbbed with a sloshing sound. It was amused. "I turned our lights off so that your eyes would not burn in those first nights."

I say nothing.

"Do you no longer heave at the sight?"

"No."

"Are you used to me? Do you love me? Love me as if you were my father?"

"Burdens can't be loved."

It deflates just a little. "What you put in your mouth is mine…Do you remember the crystal? At his house?"

"We broke it."

"Yes. We broke it." Raising its head, straining against the muscle. It fusses like an infant, "You…You hurt me that night. My throat still stings, the line of pain has never left me. I want to live."

"It's all terribly loud."

Hissing, protesting even louder. The stronger of the two of us and it can't even complain in peace. All it does is beg and complain. Watch it carefully while it rears its ugly head.

"The dead man you put in your mouth is mine. Everything you put in your mouth is mine. The skin should be mine. The eyes should be mine. I fixed everything that was wrong with our existence. Now you can fuck, eat, and kill whenever the mood strikes you. You deny me. You only want me when you need something."

Pulsating faster now, it went on: "Who were you before me? A starving hermit looking at death with intent? A juvenile delinquent? The same little girl you were at First Communion? Marrying yourself off to a God you never met? To a God who damns you to carry the ancient wrath of somebody you never met?" Its teeth gnashing, voice ragged.

"I wasn't any of them."

"Then who carried you all the way here?"

I couldn't answer that because I didn't have an answer. I don't know who carried me here. But I know it wasn't the previous skin, even if I held all those memories with me. I am not The Star. I swear I'm not The Star. I'm just something that crawled out of her frozen corpse.

Its rhythm went on faster and louder than before. Angrily awaiting the answer that I wouldn't be giving. It was scared. It scared easily. It writhed against the inside of my chest and my cold synapses. Ripping a clawed hand out of its bindings to scratch at its face and neck. It didn't understand. It cried.

"What are we running from? I can't take it anymore! I'm scared! Why are we running? I don't want to look over my shoulder anymore! I'm scared! I want to live! Let me live! You're scaring me!" Wailing as it tormented itself, "I want to go home. Take us home!"

And the veil that covered the world was gone and all the sharp edges had returned. I found that I had been muttering to a piss-stained alleyway wall. I looked down to see I was still straddling the belly of a corpse I'd found on the street. I shouldn't be feeding from the dead. It was a disgusting thing to do. I couldn't help myself.

Maybe that's why the Passenger called out to me. I couldn't help myself. So it hides behind The Moon and catches me by the hair so I'll look at it. It'll have nobody else look at it.

I stand up, the body beneath me looked strange and pale. He appeared untouched despite the fact I'd pulled every drop of blood out of him. I'm not the one who killed him. I don't know how he died. Maybe he collapsed and never got back up. That's a feeling we know.

There was a manhole there. I struggled it open and dropped him in, like a coin to a slot. I heard his dead weight collide and break against the dirty and damp concrete down below. I'll take care of the rest later. I just needed to sit down for a minute.

Man, I feel like like shit. I want to go home.

-- Good morning.

[mars-ipan]

look i love my asexual headcanons to death and what i’m about to say in no way discounts said asexual headcanons. with that disclosed i do not think aziraphale is a “virgin” (<- virginity isn’t real but you get my point) take one look at that angel and tell me he didn’t go to bacchanals i mean come the fuck on

[eoinmcgonigal]

@roseszirnheld i had two ideas for your request, so here's the other one ^^

Kiss + Pat/Dave

Even in the shade, it's hot—too hot to move much, to do little more than pass the smoke they're sharing back and forth, their fingers brushing with each exchange. Pat exhales, turning towards Dave as he offers it over again, content with himself, with this moment, and with the ease within his body as he leans in and presses a kiss to Dave's lips. He hadn't meant to do it, but it hardly matters. Dave kisses softly back, and then takes the smoke, and they resume their silent, lazy companionship in the shade of the ancient, enduring shelter.

Rogue Heroes KTF

[oscill4te]

damn the family event i was supposed to go to today was canceled and it is bittersweet. Like I really didn't wanna go bc i am still not over everything, and seeing them always sets me back really bad. but damn, this family is so dysfunctional. everyone single family member just bailed or ghosted for different reasons. its kinda sad. I always feel as if I am the person who broke the family facade too. I bailed the last 2 years on this event too. so it is double ouch.

[long-sleeved-sandwich]

i would like to share with you guys some interesting lines from my diary(a mix of poems, stories, etc etc) when i was maybe 11-12 and i didn’t really have any friends so i spent all my time watching bollywood/serials and reading poems.

“her lips are the sofa on which impurity rests” (i have no clue)

“the wedding dances will occur above my grave”(my mom was dating a guy i didn’t like)

“i will not look upon him. my eyes are filled with tears” (again about my mom’s asshole boyfriend from that era)

“rabba qismat mein rona kyun likha? i danced on rose petals, lekin ab, thorns are in my feet.” (a reference to the serial Khaani if none of yall caught that)

[lazyvoyager]