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[what-to-imagine-next]

02-18-2024

I am both. In love and filled with hate, when it comes to my life. I love some of it. Hate a lot of what I am part of due to some deeply ingrained distrust into every thing I partake in. I’m tired of the ongoing affair of this deep seeded wrath when it comes to my existence. I am so tired, yet sleep even is getting harder and harder to obtain to use as a sort of escapism.

I am though also in love with parts of myself, I can see parts of what makes me “me” and see it in others and am able to appreciate and enjoy them  thoroughly. Yet I become almost full of hipocracy when it comes to myself.

I can see my caring nature for others in the interactions I try to partake in. Yet somehow my brain will go fill with the idea of how somehow my mind is doing it only for my benefit. I am nothing but a manipulative bastard who is taking others hardships on in the benefit of myself if it means use of someone else in the future. I know it is not true, yet somehow my brain keeps me running.

In the same breath I see others I never have those thoughts come to mind unless I am fearful of being hurt. Which is not much of a common thought when it comes to now.

I can see my hardworking self, yet see myself even when trying, as someone who is not worth my effort, and my work has never been good enough from the get go. I am an unfortunate addition, who overall is not someone who is of use. Well, no beneficial use.

I feel so out of place, always have. This sickly hold on my being comes from my earliest years of suicidality. Always outside of the crowd. Only included when of a use of laughter at the earliest memories. I alas, have still have those grasping feeling onto myself.

The musical part of myself still feels as if I am not of it, surrounded my musicians and technically a part of them, yet some how, some way. I am still not fully part of the cohesiveness in which I have been a part of for years. I am still the one that gets looked at weird for how I am looked at. I am still the one who somehow cannot fill in my spot correctly, always a filling that space incorrectly. A momentary placeholder. Unfortunately part of something I know I do not belong, no matter how much I wish I was to be involved fully.

Somehow it goes where ever I do. I want to love and be happy and laugh. Yet somehow, every interpersonal relationship I am apart of seems to be filled in my mind in this sense of… space. I cannot help but feel out of place no matter how much I hope to be correct, be right, finally to fit in without having to lose part of myself yet so many times I see the looks I get. The judgement of my character due to who I am.

Walking kind of helps. Hours at a time. A bus to some spot in town and walking with nothing but music to drown my thoughts. Bring me away from the onslaught of things dragging my further down. I look to the pathways I follow. The love of the nature and human expansions intermingling together as I walk for miles at a time to drown the chaotic brain of which I must live in. I am sleeping mentally, as I walk aimlessly. And thats something I love. Somehow drowning the monotony of my thoughts with the monotony of the walk. 

I would say more but the wine is starting to feel more a part of me right now at 1:41am, technically Feb 19, 2024.

[what-to-imagine-next]

12-02-2023

I just wanna rant for a bit here.

I know no one reads this, and having my thoughts thrown into the void feels better than just letting them run rampant in my brain solely alone.

What in the every living fuck is wrong with me.

I mean I know it, but god fuck, I can’t believe myself sometime-no most times. I’m a walking idiotic buffoon who should have stopped interacting with people long ago.

I see how people look at me.

Pity.

Their eyes are full of curiosity when they first get to know me, wanting to understand and help.  Naivety filled ideals.

But my brain, oh my self destructive brain, longs for problems, and creates them via impulsing myself into terminal issues which ruin any thing I am a part of.

Why the fuck do I try?

Try to be happy?

Try to be good?

Its so confusing. I’m so mad. I’m so frustrated with the implausible thoughts of chaos which rule my conscious. I can understand myself yet somehow lack any clue. I’m so lost in my own mind of no worth.

I stopped going to therapy, I said it was because I was doing better to her, cause in some small ways maybe I am. But I’m not.

I’m spiraling again. I want the destruction of my fucked mind, the chaos and madness to stop. I want to be free. I am so tired of this cycle of life. I’m so tired of myself being of no use. Of no help. Or joy.

I cannot keep myself from ruining something. And accidentally spilling ideas and thoughts which don’t even fully align with myself. And I’m so scared of it. I’m so tired of fighting my brain. Fighting against my very existence. Constantly between two evils. Dual ended sword of existence.

Alcohol definitely does not help. Medication didn’t either. Ignoring the problems doesn’t, nor dissociation. I’m stuck in a limbo of uncomfortable suffocation between ideals in which control me when I want them to be gone.

Everyone else leaves, and I no longer blame them. I no longer reach out in hoping maybe this time I’ll be good enough, maybe this time I could be worth it for any type of interpersonal relationship.

I am fully aware I need to be alone. I cannot ruin another thing besides myself, and to me that is okay. I can be okay with self dependency, in which I take all strides of life in the shadows of others, not like in a weird criminal way, but like those people you might see every time you go on a stroll through town but one day they stop but you don’t even realize, cause they never mattered to any majority of population, perhaps even forgotten by friends and loved ones of times past. And thats okay. I need to stop myself. I must. I cannot continue this indulgent lifestyle where I try to be worth something I know I am not. I cannot do it. I should not. I will not. I will do the minimum, exist in this hellscape of my mind until insanity fully takes me into my permanent slumber, today is not that day, nor tomorrow.

Death is a comfort, the only true constant of my life. A friend and enemy in one concept in which the universe follows. It will be my love, and friendship. It will be my companion who follows me to the last breath rushed out of my body, to the last pulse of my heart, the last thought, the last moment of existence before history and time consume me. I may not be strong, but that is okay, tomorrow is another day where death can try, but in due time my friend. I am as sure as the moon is old that death is not scary, its a dependence of when which might be, though, that is alright with me.

When death knocks on my door, my friend, I will accept them with open arms and rest, free from myself and any pain or confusion I brought to the world. Not today, perhaps tomorrow or in decades of time from now. But death will be here for me when I am alone, and I’m okay with that. The void can look into me now.

[what-to-imagine-next]

08-15-2023

Some shit’s happened in the last week or so.

08-11-23 My old bandmate from college, who went to technically a rival high school of mine, died. Gone. Its weird. I miss him even though it had been a long while since we talked, as we all do as we grow, we move apart and sometimes lose contact. But thats it. No more joking around or making fun of him for being a french horn player. I just.. I don’t know. I miss him, he was always really good at taking a joke, a sweetheart but a little dramatic. But it was very much so him. I’m teetering between numb and depressed, trying to keep myself fed and active but its been hard. Found out on the 13th after work and the last two days have been a bit mind numbing. After I found out, I drew him. So that felt.. nice to keep distracted. I guess

The other thing is just dumb.

I miss my fuck up of a shit father. My sister saw him, a few days prior, and for her I’m happy. She said it herself “you may have not gotten him as the loving dad, but I did, I miss that version of him” and I’m happy for her. But I feel so.. unloved for that. And today I’m just feeling weak. Like always I guess but sometimes I’m better on putting on a front. She’s happy, and I’m haply for her in a way, but I’ll never get that. I tired so hard. I tried so. Fucking. Hard. I am never enough.

I miss my dad

I miss wendy

I miss evan

I miss feeling loved.

[what-to-imagine-next]

03-23-2023

hit’s 2:32am by the time I’m starting this post. I don’t know. 

I’m exhausted. I’m so damned tired, all these years later. sleep using to help a good bit, even In the small quantities I gave myself. I could use it to hide from the worlds and pretend I’m gone so nothing mattered, even if I never dreamed much, and that was alright. it was a safe haven. a small piece of clarity in my life that makes so little sense. 

people say I’m getting better. I’m happier and healthier, except my mom who brings my weight up at any given opportunity. people say I’m moving forward in life, but I can’t shake this doubt. this dread of continuing. this fear of living. I’m terrified of the world. I’m scared of people. I’m scared of love. I’m scared of hate. I’m scared of living in a place were we will drive ourselves to extinction due to personal greed, but I am supposed to live on and laugh and love and grow and continue to push through the onslaught of terror that life brings.

I get I’m a pessimist, I do. I really fucking do. but I don’t get it. I don’t get how so many people can push past this internal and external dread of life. the ever growing threats of survival ever pushing us to a point of no return. how am I supposed to function in college classes, at work or with friends. how am I supposed to think of joy when life around us all is meaningless. I don’t get how people say due to it being meaningless that means it’s meaningful, that you can do whatever you want and go where ever and be whoever you want. I don’t think thats true. I think that life is one long dreadful experience that only has one true meaning. death.

death braces everyone. death does not shy away from good or evil, it grabs hold of truth and lies and gives a final order. taking us to the pitch black nothingness that will consume our minds at the end of our time, as it will with the universe. it is ever gorging its self with its unsatisfiable hunger. it looms in the brightest of stars and nothingness of deep space. it is the only truly promised wish for our time space continuum. it will always be ready to grab hold of us and feast.

I might not be self harming in a physical sense, knuckles still scarred from constant battering against walls and trees, never truly healed due to the new warm blood trickling down my fingertips. I miss it. I miss the pain, not for the enjoyment of pain, but for always being so aware of what I deserved in life. it was gratifying, a way to truly give myself worth without having the consequences of the permanent version. death is something I will welcome life a childhood friend. I’m not alive because I really want to be. life hurts, and I know you have to be hurt and cry and have those bad moments to put the greatness life could offer into perspective. but it hurts all the time, not just to my own mental torment. I’m so tired from fighting my idealization of death, even if no active plans are in my mind, its a whisper that echos. I can be in the middle of a gig, or school or work or even just trying to enjoy the warm embrace of a shower and it whispers a reminder of my worth; I can not get it to shut up. I can not hid from it in the blinks of sleep I get. I can not hide it with the booming bass of another song. I can’t hide. I can’t run. I am stuck with myself and my thoughts.

my friends used to check in on my for a while. it was nice feeling momentarily cared for. even if I try to convince myself in those moments that their concern isn’t true or something along that sort of thinking. but now I am “better” they have quieted down. they don’t message me. ask to grab coffee. see if I need a chat even about something fun or cool. I am just again, alone. its funny actually, my astronomy professor today was talking about how if someone ever feels lonely they can calculate the possible number of aliens in the universe, and I thought it was funny so I laughed as I do at most his jokes honestly; even if I’m the only one laughing besides himself; he then said “like you ___” accidentally calling me lonely to the entire class. haha. ha. but its true. my friends don’t want to be there. there are only so many times you can listen to the drone of my mental state, even with improvements.

I hate my voice, its grainy and off putting, loud and obnoxious and somehow I just can’t stop talking, I want to listen but I want to be heard, somehow I am never heard.

I hate my body, this weight is nothing I should complain about but i’ve reverted into my starving pattern a bit more again, somedays I just want to take a knife to it to rid myself of the “problem.”

I hate my personality, I can’t seem to pull it together, I’m a constant influx of personalities that wavers to who ever I interact with in the hope I am finally cared for, yet it is never enough. I am never enough.

I hate my existence. I really think if my mom had gone through with aborting me, divorcing my father sooner, she and my brother would have been better off. the root of my problems was me existing in the first place.

Although there is one thing that comes to mind I am grateful to have experienced

Solar glow kisses my skin 

Clouds dance within the wind

Flowers bloom and trees sway

The beauty is something that’d make me stay

I long for the sea, with crashing waves

Mountainous views, snowy conclaves

To the desert heated sahara 

And polar aurora

To Jovial planets near yet far

To the lightyear of travel of photons from stars

The supernova rips of elemental atoms

To the interworking work of stratums

The creation of time and space as a whole

Some how, some place we were given a soul

Life and nature may be the only thing that is worth. 

Even if we end up destroying ourselves and our proof. 

[what-to-imagine-next]

10-27-2022

Less than four hours away from my ex’s birthday.

I know that my feeling don’t matter nor do I. I know that its so idiotic of be to be so down in the dumps over this. I know that I should just be better. I know I’m weak. I know I still love and miss him. His warm eyes and laughter. His ability to somehow just hug and kiss my momentary problems away. His dorky curly hair that he never really knew how to take care of. His laugh. God his laugh. I miss hearing it. Even just seeing in words. I miss him. I can’t talk to him. As much as every loving or hateful part of me wants to. I can’t try to be apart of his life just to ruin it more. All I do is ruin. And I should know this by now. I should know that I’m not good for anything. I should know I don’t add fo anything. Not music. Not art. Not work. Not school. Not family. Not friends. I wish I did kill myself ya know? Maybe then it’d suck for a minute or two for people who would have known me. But then they wouldn’t have to worry again. They’d be free. They’d all know it was inevitable and that I was on borrowed time. They’d know that even with the small joys I’ve recently had it still all hurts. Not just me missing him.Just my existence. Its always been a pain and dreadful experience. Ive just ruined everything for everyone and I shouldn’t be here to ruin it more. I wish I could just get better. Be better. Be not me. Anything but this. Anything but pain. Anyone but me. It’s all not fair. My life. And thats not anyones problems but my own. I knew from a young age I wasn’t supposed be be alive. I knew even before my mom told me I was supposed to be aborted. I knew from elementary. All the kids pointing and laughing and me never truly fitting in. Same with junior high and high school and college. I’ve always had this pain. This disconnect. This urge for disappearing. Being gone would be the only true peace of my nonsensical existence. I am sorry to Stephen. For hurting him, when all I wanted to do was love and adore him. To be that happy person who would help him. Who would be there for him. But I wasn’t meant for anything positive I knew this. I told him this. I knew I would be left again. I knew it would happen even when I was trying to get better but I am NOT meant for any happiness or joy in personal fulfillment. I knew this. And I had false hope. I tried. I really did. I really do still love you stephen. I’m so happy you choose yourself. I’m so happy you’re doing better. I’m so happy for you. Happy birthday in four hours my love. My joy. My proud nerd. My everything. I’m sorry I truly was worth nothing. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My bubby. I’m. So. Sorry. I’m. Me.

[what-to-imagine-next]

09-25-2022

Thirty Seven Days Until My Ex’s Birth Day, I Am Ever Closer To Killing Myself.

Its been weird, living that is.

I still extremely love him, stephen. And its honestly really fucking sucky. Part of me wishes for the sliver of a chance to even have him in my life again, even if it means watching him fall in love with another who he’d truly be happy with. Even if every extra second of knowing him is going to cause me an ever lasting pain. Even if I never get to be happy. And part of me really still wants one of two options. Wait out for the date I have in my mind, wait and wait every painful second and every terrifying moment of continuing this existence so when I get to that date it’ll finally be over. Finally free. Finally. Gone. Like I was meant to be. Or two, do the same but move, change my name, my look and personality. Become something I’m not for the happiness of others, and then disappear agajn permanently. And Honestly. Thats all I can see myself doing in this lifetime. Even if I never get another shot. Even if it means the sadness of others. Maybe I could be selfish. Maybe I could not care for once. And end every painful minute.

I’m sorry to any family I may hurt. I’m sorry to any friends who may hurt. I’m sorry to any around me who may hurt. But I’m not sorry for doing it when it comes. Because its been weighing down my mind for eleven years, and when the days comes in two thousand thirty, it will have been just over nine-teen years. And then I can be free. Though I dont wish my moms death, I partly hope shes not around for it. It would truly break her. But I’m so tired. Even the good days are exhausting. The bad days are millions of times worse. And I just want to be free. Cause I know even with therapy, even with self love, even with medication, even with a new start in life. I will never be free in my lifetime. And I have accepted that. All I hope is that all you around me, if you were still even there when the day comes, can accept it for even a fraction of what I can.

I love you stephen, I’m glad you chose yourself, I’m sorry I ever ruined you, met you, and loved you, I’m sorry I didnt keep you away. I’m sorry I was right about how awful I am. But thats okay. I’m not okay but thats okay. I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re loved. I hope you’re happy. I hope your hopeful. I hope, just maybe, that you’d love us for one more kiss, one more hug, one more moment of joy, but I know the world around humanity is a cursed place of turmoil, hatred, and profound idiocy. I love you. I miss you. I will ever be grateful for you. Even now. My idiot love.

God I hate myself, and everything makes sense.

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-27-2022

Today was another one of those rough days. I’m trying to take care of myself, give myself praise for being able to do simple numb-nut level personal care. I’m trying to learn to love myself with out being perfect, without trying to change the parts of me that matter. Change is inevitable, needed. And I will change. Will learn to love myself more than I ever hated myself. Thats the goal I guess. But today was one of those hard days

The kind of day where you stand on top of a high build bridge standing at the edge wondering if you just tip your center of mass a bit to far and don’t try to even save yourself by falling back onto the rest of the bridge. Just give in to the falling wind that runs off the ocean and under the bridge. Just give in. I stood there for ten minutes. Music blasting in my ears. Knowing I’d probably survive the fall because its not even to high up and surviving and being paralyzed sounds worse than just painfully living until I find another bridge. Another source. Another chance of ending my story. Something I’d be able to control alone. Even if it hurt many it’d finally make me free. No longer suffering. The days of good always seem nice. I always dream of that. But the pains of life make those small moments of happiness seem so..  minuscule.

For now I guess I’ll try to learn to love living. In spite of death. Live alone with no one caring when I’m alive and only if I die. Alone living out of spite. To learn to love myself because I never deserved anyone around me anyways. Learn to love myself out of spite of those around me. A life of spite and pain. Today I realized… I don’t think I’d be a good teacher. I don’t know if I even like music enough anymore. I don’t know what I want to work to. Life of spite I guess.. I miss him and hate him and love him. Stephen you idiot. You ruined me. And thats okay.. I ruined myself more than anyone ever could. Life of spite.

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-17-2022

I feel so alone. I am so alone. I though people used to care about me. I used to think I mattered to people. That I was wanted around. I’m so replaceable. I’m so unneeded. I wish I was wanted. I wish people cared where I was. I wish they checked in and made me go with them places and have fun with them. I wish people really wanted me. I know so many people. So many people know my name no matter where I make a stand. People always know my name. The obnoxious loud idiot that keeps everyone amused. The person who always gets laughed at. I’m nothing special. Always replaceable. Always… forgettable.

I miss being stephens. I miss making him smile. I miss being happy and making him happy. I’m so useless right now and yeah I’ll learn with time but the one fucking time I just wished so much. So much I wanted to be his and be able to be happy with himZ to make our life something special and leave our small mark on the world, even if its just happiness added for a short term history thats forgotten with everything thats history tends to forget. I wanted us to life our life so badly. I wanted that so badly. I wanted to be his.. and him be mine, and us be happy but I’m not worth jack shit nothing. I wanted to be worth something. Just to him. Just to stephen. And I cant look at myself anymore. I cant do anything right now and look at me and think I’m worth anything. I hate every but about me because he loved almost everything.

I wish I made him happy. I wish I mattered and that he was worried about me but I’m nothing special. It hurts so much that I’m constantly thinking of him and worried about him and if he’s eating, if he’s keeping his car clean. If he’s happy. If he’s being safe. I’m so worried no matter how much I try to distract myself. I keep trying distract myself with everyone around me and nothing shuts up the thoughts. I keep trying. And the second I do it all comes back. I’m so fucking worried and he isn’t at all about me. I wasn’t important. I wasn’t special. I wasn’t needed. He’s not worried because I’m nothing. I wish just to him I was something. I wish so much that I mattered to him. I’m nothing. I’m always nothing. I love you stephen. I’m so sorry. I miss you. I’m so sorry. Be safe. I’m sorry

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-15-2022

I hate how much I feel like I’m mourning. I hate how I just fucking wish we could have talked it out and taken a break and made this work but instead all of what we used to dream of together is gone. I wish I could still talk to him. I wish I could talk to the person I know as my best friend. I feel so alone. I miss my best friend who’d stay up in the middle of the night with me just to talk and enjoy life with. I miss my best friend who always made sure I ate and took care of myself and me doing the same for him. I miss my best friend who I’d fold laundry with. I miss my best friend so much.

I think about how I was during the relationship, I hate how I was. I hate how overbearing and over protective I was because I was so scared to lose the one thing I loved and I was so much that it was what made him leave. I hate that I was so blinded by the idea of losing him that I already did by every stupid choice I made. I hate myself for being so lost. I hate how much I wanted to keep you and be with you and be able to make you happy where ever you go and I was so selfish and so scared of losing you and not being the one who was enough. So scared to lose you. So scared that I did lose you because of it. I’m so sorry that I was that way. I’m so sorry that I’m so scared of losing everything and everyone. I’m sorry that I lost you. I’m sorry that I was the problem. I’m so scared of being alone that I tried to have you always and I drove you insane. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I miss you. I miss when I was your everything. I miss making you happy. I miss being the person you said you were stuck with. That we were forever no matter what and that we’d get through the end of the world together. I’m so sorry. I love you. I miss you. I hope one day I’d be enough and I’m sorry if I never will be and that.. I lost you. I’m so sorry stephen. I miss you more than I could have ever imagined.

I really do wish we could have lived that dream we were always saying. Every day without you is a personal hell. I deserve it. I miss you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-14-2022

I miss him. So much of me misses him. His warmth. His smile. His laugh. The way he drives. The way he cares so much about everything and everyone.. almost everyone. The way he just made everything feel like it will be okay. Being able to laugh and enjoy the small things.

I wish I could have enjoyed those moments more. The small things that made everyday life seem peaceful amongst the chaos of a failing society. He’s a fresh breathe of air when you get to the top of your hike. He’s the glass of cold water after being outside in the heat cleaning the yard. He’s the morning dove singing in the foggy morning. He’s the whistling crickets in the middle of night as you camp. I miss that. I miss being able to enjoy the presence of him. Not even having to constantly be one-hundred perfect focuses on each other, just enjoying one another’s existence. I miss it so much.

Getting a small kiss randomly. Turning over on the bed to stare at him as he played pokemon and just seeing the cute concentration on his face. Him randomly stopping to hug me for a bit.. I miss those small joyful things that. I want to hug him in the middle of him cooking again. I want to help clean his room as we watch tv on his laptop. I want to drive around at three am enjoying the cold, the music and each other presence.

I hope maybe one day, I’ll be lucky enough to be around him. I don’t know if I’d ever deserve it but I hope for the day. I dream for the day. I want to learn to love myself, even a fraction of what I did for him. Maybe we could be happy again. Maybe thats just selfish to think about. Maybe I had that chance and because I was broken and a fool.. maybe I lost him forever.

I’ll always dream of the life we talked about. Always have that dream of us dancing at our wedding, probably stumbling around because we both have two left feet. Laughs and giggles around each other as we swayed around on the dance floor. Having your dad maybe even walking me down the isle. Having greens silvers surround us in color. The end out our wedding, driving away with each other and probably getting some fast food together even in out wedding gear. The ideas we had for homes and pets and decor, dreams I’ll forever hold onto. Always wish we could have done that life together. Held each other throughout the good. The bad. The everything. A simplistic dream of a life I once hoped for and never want to fill if not for with you. A life, a dream. A once before plan, now only a whisper of an idea two young lovers had. I miss it all.

I can see a life I’ll have now. But not one I’d want to fill with anyone but you. Maybe a cat or two. Teaching in some school away from every memory and idea we shared. Small home, small trinkets I held onto you gave. A simple life, one that would be okay, but without you, will never be as happy nor as great as we had planned and spoken of. A dream forever playing for me in the midst of my mind, always singing that joyous idea. Only a dream now. I miss that plan we had when it was concrete. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him with every cell in my body, every new cell grown will still mourn the dream that once was. I miss him. I always will want to be his. I will always be his, even if he is happy without, even if he moves on. I will always love and be him in my mind. I miss him.

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-13-2022

Do you ever realize, after you already lost them. They really were the one? The one person who made everything in the world feel complete, the one who made things easy, the one who really made this painful world feel like it was going to be okay even on the days it wasn’t okay.

I miss him. I miss our late night talks ove future ideas, of our future. The travels on summers or weekends ahead if us. A trip to North Carolina, or northern Cal. Or a trip abroad where we would go. The sights we’d see. The things we’d experience.

Our talks of a house, what rooms we’d have and what pets we’d get together. Always talked about two dogs, at least one cat, and maybe a duck or two if the house had a space.. How we would both would get our degrees, be at the same high school with me as a band teacher and him as a high school counselor. He wanted to be able to be there for students and let them have a voice because he didn’t at one point and he wanted to be the one who they could learn to have a voice from. I was the same with with music as that way to help be an outlet I suppose. We talked how we’d have the same last name, and joke to everyone we weren’t married but flirt and get each other gifts at the school.

I miss when we would talk about out wedding, never for aure on the color, green and blue are both so beautiful, but white black and silver as the accents. I’m thinking green more now because he loves green. Always joked about our coworker Joey being who  officiated our wedding, joking about him not getting the license until right before the wedding was supposed to take place. Every “Guess who I love” or “you know who I love right” was joked by him saying joey. I always hated it, it was a joke but I only can love him, and only want to love him.

I loved the nights where we slept next to one another. I could hold onto him and feel okay and know “I am okay… I’m going to be okay… we are going to be okay… I love him… he loves me..” I miss those feelings. Those thoughts.. those words. When I’d doubt myself. When I felt I really wasn’t okay or wasn’t enough he would hold me and tell me I was. I was enough. We were enough. And we will get through this together. We were always supporting each-other… I guess I just took more than I gave and made it to hard in the long run of it all. I long for the texts of him saying he doesn’t give up on anyone because thats sad and no one deserved that.. I long for the words of him saying we were stuck together and we would get through it all. I miss it. I miss being able to look at him and tell him I truly love him. Every little bit about him I love. Even the parts he hated showing, even the parts that weren’t perfect. Even the parts he never wanted to show and did by chance. I love every bit of him. Even the part that choose to leave me..

I hate it but I’m proud of you.. I’m happy you chose yourself for once… I’m so proud you know that you matter. And you deserve happiness.. and I’m sorry I was the pain in your life. I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain.. so much suffering. I wish I was able to make you happy. I wish I was the reason you looked forwards to the small things of life like we always said and planned. I’m sorry I ruined it all. I love you stephen. I’m so sorry I hurt you.. I will always dream of every bit of our life’s we said. I will always look to you as what I want and hope for. I will dream of our happy rides around town, I will always dream of our small giggles in the midst of night, I will always dream of the small family we joked about even though we both knew we didn’t want kids. I will always dream of us. Our hopes and dreams.. I don’t think I’ll really ever be able to find this again. Not the way it was. Not ever as good or pure as out happiness. I don’t want to either. I don’t ever want to replace the happiness you had given me. I will always love you. And I hope you do get to experience that happy life you always wanted. I hope you get your dreams and further, and I hope you do realize how happy you deserve to be and thinking about yourself is okay.

Maybe in some far off space we are as happy as we had hoped. I love you. I always will. Be happy and please take care of yourself, you do honestly deserve it. I wish I could help but I don’t deserve you and I love you. Be safe out there bubba.. I’m sorry

[what-to-imagine-next]

01-09-2022

I was broken up with on the 6th… three days ago. Ive never felt so lost and so without hope. That night I spent my night in the hospital, knowing if I was home I would end it all.

I miss him. I miss his laugh, his smile, the way he talks and sings, the way he throws all his stuff on a table when he gets home and called me cute when I’d organize it. I miss how he would hold me and tell me I was worth everything. I miss when he believed I was good enough and was there to help me through all the tough parts of my inner turmoil. I miss him. I miss how he smells. How he kissed me and hugged me. I miss how he used to ask for rubs on his back and wanted affection. I miss how he would make sure I would eat even when it was hard and he would drive me around until I was ready to. I miss when he would take us for a night drive because he knew I was bored or that I was doing bad mentally. I miss making him smile. Making him laugh…

I miss telling him how much I love him and what I love about him. I miss kissing his stomach and cheeks when he’d be sad for hit little bit of chub. I miss seeing his cheeks glow red any time I gave him love. I miss buying him food or snacks or drinks and him being ever grateful. I miss being the person he would tell everything to, even if that was a lie. I miss our talks about the future, not just love and marriage and homes, but schooling, trips and even working on our inner selves. I miss every little thing about him even after he hurt me.

I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to make you happy. I’m sorry I was to much in the long run. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to love myself as much as I love you. I’m trying. I know it doesn’t mean much because change and growing is so slow. I’m trying my bubba.. I’m sorry I’m not enough. I miss you dearly and I know it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry I took so much out of you. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough in the end. I wish you just… said it to me… I wish you could look me in the eye and say it instead of a text message. I wish we could have just set up new boundaries and learned together to be better. I wish I was able to be worth it enough for us both to learn and grow and love together and I’m so forever sorry that I’m not enough. I love you… I miss you… I miss everything… I’m so sorry…

[what-to-imagine-next]

10-1-2021

Happy halloween month you fuckheads. Anyways here goes another pointless and plotless meaningless stream of thoughts.

I’m the worst part of my own life. I’m what makes it hard, I’m what makes things end and ruin it for myself and I’m now to much into my own self realization to be able to do much but loath of continuous exhausting existence of my day to day life.

Dragging my own world down piece by piece wherever I begin, the end becoming from my own self hatred that grows with every mistake and push and pull. Everything begins being hard, working, playing, reading, eating, sleeping. The continued path of pain always relies not only on my still beating heart but also by my ever corrupted mind that exists for self destruction.

Why does my own will to live undertake its self?

Why do I always urn for ends but begin many things?

Will I ever become really okay?

Will I make myself and others happy?

Will I not ruin it with my intrusive thoughts that no one agrees with?

Or will I continue to spiral into an abyss that ends with my story?

That seems the most plausible. Even with certain circumstances being to grow and flourish, it is not lot till my own mental ruins my ability to keep positive and growing. Replacing the growth with the ever painful consistent self loathing that never seems to reappear and remind me of all I really am and all I will ever be.

I wont give up but every day, every repeating fucking day I get more and more tired. The pages of my story always lend back into the beginning plots that haunt my existence no matter where I go or grow or even try to think of. No matter what I do I cant escape, and I’m great at ending myself into a lonely pit of nothingness. No friends. No laughing, happiness or even a positive outcome. No people I feel like care, as I’m always great at ending anything so they dont have to deal with the aftermath of my own mental destruction. They dont need to deal with me you know? I’m nothing special, helpful or even worthy. I can always be replaced. And I know it. Even if not initially, but thats okay. They’ll all find better and be happy, and finally free from the pain of my existence. And I’ll be in a small apartment probably alone, with a cat maybe, and nothing to keep me going but the bills and never ending pain of it all. Maybe that’ll be okay. Maybe its what I deserve.

Thats okay..

I’ll be okay…

I’ll be gone but…

Okay.. alone but okay… okay? I dont know if I’m okay but okay.

[what-to-imagine-next]

8-13-2021

I don’t know, I feel like I have no one to talk to so I’ll talk here for now. Today’s the day the mushroom war starts and I think thats funny, its also my professor/friends birthday. Nothings really happening though, the same repeat of the day, the same ever boring longing for something more. Yet here I am, day in and day out doing the same casual banter and continuing though I’d rather not.

I mean yeah I know it would hurt many if I was dead, but I’m just so tired. no matter what I do I’m still tired. Two hours of sleep? Still tired. Eight hours? Still tired. Twelve? Sixteen? It doesn’t matter what I do I’m just still so tired. I wish something was refreshing enough to make it feel like something new and happy and interesting was happening. I know many things are happening around me yet it all feels the same. 

Anyways, sometimes it feels like I’m nothing but some obnoxious dimwit who does nothing but cause a mass of chaos among the already boiled waters. Maybe thats just who I am.

I don’t know if thats the case, people say I’m great and that I cause happiness and make it so people are able to do better and improve. Every time I hear it , it feels like they’re all just stating some simple barely there fact to make me feel better for a short time so I can continue to do what I do so they don’t have to deal with getting rid of me, like its easier to say I’m good than to admit how rude, obnoxiously loud and repulsively annoying I am. Maybe they’re telling the truth and I’m just some mentally ill idiot who needs some help not absolutely despising themself.

One thing that I know people never mean to hurt me with is, “turn it down a notch.” Sometimes its just due to my vocal projection being a bit loud, I always feel like just shutting down after, I just want to curl up and forget I was there. I’m sorry that I was too loud. I didn’t mean to be. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to and I wish I would be able to pay attention more and I’m sorry that I’m not able to do that and that when I’m happy and excited to talk I just get louder and louder. I don’t mean to, I’m not trying to yell and I’m sorry I’m too much all the time. I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I could yell and yell and yell and scream till I cough up blood and ruin my ability to talk every again, maybe they’d be happier with me like that, I’d just be the great listener they want and id finally not be the cause of their headaches.

I’m sorry that I cant control myself enough and for my idiotic behavior. I’m sorry that I don’t smile enough anymore, I’m sorry I’m not happy like I used to be and that no matter what I’m digging myself into a grave and making sure I don’t get out and I know that this is all happening and I’m sorry that right now I’m just digging down instead of out. I know I can, I’ve had to time and time again but I just want to be me for a bit and feel horrible cause my whole life has just been covering it up so I can take care of everyone around me and I even do that right now so I’m just going to feel and be horrible and finally cry enough to feel something other than to stupid and quick brewed anger that sparks up to quickly.

I wish I was the me I used to be, but I’d also never want to be them again. 

I’ve always hated myself, even when young. Even as that energetic blond with bouncy curls and a smile who wanted to help and hug the world. I’ve never been enough and I don’t think I’ll ever be enough. not for others, I can be if I let myself, but I don’t think I’ll ever be enough for myself.

Since I could remember I’ve been a ball of rage and anger. Even when I try not to be, even if I’ve changed. I still am that. I’m a bit better now I suppose, its not healthy better but its better? It used to be that any time people around me picked on me, or teased, I’d flip. I hated it. I’d get flustered and yell and kick and punch and break things. Always. Even if it was over something small. Every time they’d laugh. They’d all point and laugh and say more to rile me up even more. I’m sorry that it was that funny. I’m sorry ive never been good at controlling anything small about myself. 

I’m sorry, I’ve always been sorry so now, I ball it up inside and release it away from others to feel pain and hate myself, I’m hands are starting to get really scared up from punching walls. Yeah I know its not good, but its all I have right now thats not killing myself over some stupid situation. I know I need healthier things to do, which is why right now I’m just ranting into some stupid blog where no one will read it and i’ll still be that lonely idiot with a million freinds but no one to go to. 

they say they’re here for me, but I don’t want pity when I’m like this. I hate it. I fucking hate when they just look down on me like some broken and beaten puppy someone left on the side of the fucking road. I’m a broken person but treat me like you would yourself, sometimes I just need someone to listen and be there.

One person I used to go to I don’t right now cause it just feels like I’m intruding and that the advice they give me is a bit condescending even when they don’t mean to do it, but I don’t want to say anything, instead i’ll listen to them and be there for them and be here on this dead blog when I need “someone” to listen. 

I hate that I know whats wrong with me, I hate that I end up thinking about what I can fix and what I could do to fix it but I just feel like some invisible wall is there not letting me progress, like a locked area of a map that you have to be a certain level to be able to progress to. its just over there, I can see it and I know how to get there but some invisible force keeps me getting worse and worse and keeps convincing myself to hate myself further.

I wish I smiled more.

I wish I made everyones day better.

I wish I was able to change the world.

I wish I could do something. Anything.

I wish i was better.

I wish I wasn’t just like my parents, both in the best and worst ways.

I wish I was something people aspired to be.

I wish I could control myself.

I wish I was able to be happy. 

I wish I was happy.

I wish I wasn’t me. 

anyways I’m not okay right now. 

I don’t think I ever will be.

[what-to-imagine-next]

Its weird, time passes every day, the repeat if a simple day goes on continuously even though I want for change and improvement; here I am, not much different than more than a year ago. No one around ne is to blame for where I am, mentally and physically. I can endlessly complain of my basic fights with my mother, how my boss gives us to much work and then says we do bad though few of us actually keep the store in line. Whatever, basic problems and basic solutions.

Recently my mood swings have been getting worse. Never ending changing between wanting to through my life away and hurt everyone around me to wanting to keep going and helping anyone I can because they deserve help, just like I do. But I always push myself into a hole of isolation where nothing makes sense as I have the tools and information to get better, and just cant find the willpower to go do something for myself.

I’m being back and forth with consistency on eating, overall only getting a singular meal in at the end of the day, other times two when I make myself, sometimes I’ll just go 1-3days without food, lack of wanting to eat due to feeling nauseous from the consumption or from my brain saying ive been eating to much and I need to starve and work out more. I dont know why I cant just force myself to eat, but whatever. Today however I had toast in the morning, and after my long depression shower ive been taking for an hour now I’ll have some fried rice thats cold. Slow steps I suppose.

I feel bad for everyone around me when I get bad, I just have been loosing interest over my repeating life. So the lack luster problems that continue just get me fed up with the lack of change and improvement in my environment, whether internally or externally. I know I should start to do more personally for myself and that I do matter and that I would be missed if I were to disappear but its tempting to go without a word, whether to run or pass, the repetition of this thought flickers on throughout even my happy moments.

Sometimes I wonder, why. Why wake up, but then I remember those moments of fun like making pizza in a frog terracotta oven at my friends house, or the fair, or meeting an old friend for lunch under the courthouse shade. Cause those are nice, but sometimes its hard to imagine being happy and enjoying any of it now. Cause even during those fun times all I can think of is the worst and I hate myself for that.

[what-to-imagine-next]

Its been over a year, its 2020 march. It hurts still. Its better and worse, somethings help make me smile like before. Somethings... just make it worse. I’m getting worse, I’m not treating myself how I should, I’m disappointed in myself for how I’m treating myself but now I’m stuck in a loop. I go from starving myself, to over eating, from a lot of drugs, to no sleep to to much of everything. I’m sorry I’m not able to take care of myself wendy. I’m sorry if I let you down. I was supposed to be the strong one. I was supposed to make everyone think I was okay and that I knew what I was doing. Instead, its 1:35am, and here I am. I’m sorry I’m not doing enough wendy. I really miss you.. I’m sorry.

[what-to-imagine-next]

Concerts and detications

April 11th was my spring concert for my highschool bands. We had Kearney come play for God bless the child, the piece for jazz band we deticated to her. I was supposed to count off the song but I started fucking shaking and crying. So Mr. A counted it off. Parts I couldn’t play because I was crying to much. Kearney came and played third trombone for the piece. And my friend Alex played second alto because the girl who didnt like wendy decided to not show up. We played alright, and the family was really happy about what we were doing.

When we had ended the peice, I ran off stage bawling and dogded nearly everyones congrats and hugs because I was hurting a lot and just wanted to put my trombone away to not fuck it up. I forgot who I hugged when I did give in, but I bawled a lot into their shoulder.

After that and other bands playing and such as they had done before the Jazz band I was in played, we played a song called A song for Japan for Wendy. It was written back when Japan had the earthquakes and disasters. Fitting I guess. We played well. A lot of emotions and crying ran through nearly everyone who played. Kearney was the guest conductor for the piece. She even started crying at the start of it all. After this piece I was still so sad but the crying stopped, I dont know if it was lack of tears or just empty sadness.

Today is May 25th, 2019

The jazz band had a gig at a celebration/event called I Madinari, at the local mission. We played about an hour and a half of music, maybe a but less? But we played God bless the Child and I started crying when Mr A made the announcement to everyone why we were playing the song. Mid playing Roxy started crying a lot so I hugged her. And as we ended I started crying too. I miss you wendy.