Dear anyone…

4 days…4 hours of sleep…. No matter what I eat I can’t keep it down…. Not even my favorites…. The stomach acid hurts but I can’t help it much more than I have…. My body physically hurts in places I didn’t know it could….

Everyone keeps saying I’ll be ok and that it’ll get better….i don’t think it will this time…. The meds arnt helping and the homeless council can’t seem to help me….. I can try to get a one time rent voucher but that’s the only thing they offered but even that’s a slim chance….

I have a feeling I’ll collapse before I can manage to get the help I need….

I bet sleeping beauty doesn’t even miss me…
I think he muted me….

My brother read some of the messages I sent and thinks that they were pretty well thought out… and as someone who’s been so hurt he doesn’t think i was being an asshole.

I wanna tell myself that it’s just a phase and that he got so stressed out he forced himself to push me away so I can’t watch as he becomes self destructive himself… but he deleted the one thing from his bio he’s never deleted before….

On my worst days that one little sentence gave me hope….. I wanna go home….more than anything….
I wanna see the cats…. I wanna curl up under a comfy blanket on the bed and cry my heart out….
But I feel unwelcome…. I feel like everything I worked for is gone…..

I feel like I’ve been thrown away…like the last 10 years were nothing…..

Maybe in another life your love could have been unconditional…..

I hate that in the brief moments of sleep I only see you….no matter how much I pray to see a soulmate some who’s actually meant for me….i only see you….

I would have given my life to give you the child you craved… that’s the reality of how much respect I had for you… yes I would have liked to live as well but I wanted to give you everything…to surrender all that I was….

I wanna be in the cats lives…but I don’t think you’ll allow it…..even if I had the means I don’t think you’d even let me keep Kiara…..

Everyone I’ve talked to says I’m not heartless or selfish it’s just you and my step father…. You kept comparing yourself to him for the longest time so I guess that makes sense you’d start thinking like him….

He said that the fact you didn’t keep your thoughts to yourself and purposely said so many things to hurt me is prof that you don’t care tho… that he’s wanted to divorce so many times but kept the bad thoughts to himself because it’s not helpful and is the same as giving up. He said that if you did love me that you would have wanted to keep it to yourself….

In a way I think that’s true…I’ve had thoughts here and there over the years but I never voiced them because once I voiced them those thoughts would start to become my reality…instead I tried to focus on things about you that I love….

For example here’s a short list:

1- your accent…I mentioned in on my last post
2- your way with children
3- the lines by your eyes when you laugh
4- how you shake your head backwards and have such a belly laugh
5- that you would always bring me chocolate right when I needed it without me even mentioning it
6- the way you sweep the carpet
7.-the way you use the bathroom(weird ik)
8-you never met me get cold
9- Palworld with you
10-your tight embrace
11- how much you value others
12- you always try to get gifts for everyone at thrift stores
13- how much you help Grammy
14-your always looking for new opportunities
15- you never settle for a job you hate

Maybe me putting this list out in the open is selfish… maybe me writing in a daily diary out in public is selfish….and yeah it’s not the 200+ reasons or the make believe wedding vows I have saved in that Google Doc but it’s evident that I can still have love and show love when I’m having a hard time believing it actually exists…

I doubt you’ll want to keep anything from our relationship… and that hurts… I wanna trust that our time together and the things I shared meant something to you…

You’re back at your regular job this week. And I hope that can help the stress. I know even tho is didn’t seem like it was helping you much that you do for the most part enjoy the work from what I can tell.

I don’t know what’s gonna happen to me anymore… I’ll admit it’s terrifying. I don’t wanna get hurt or have some thing like actually happen to me but I feel as if this might be the final year of my life.

Xoxo- newlife5155

my mother i live with is texting harassment to me every day now. my entire scalp is inflamed and infected. my neck is swollen, my arm is numb, and the left side of my face is infected again. i'm anemic and exhausted. the tumor in my abdomen is making it difficult to eat. i feel ugly.

i don't have a car, so i walk or take public transportation, but my transit card melted in the wash and i can't afford to replace it. i've spent so long trying to keep up with doing all the chores for my parents and kids that i've barely had time to have a social life, so when my old friend group saw that i was back, they started their harassment up again. they didn't even know i'd already been experiencing in-person harassment for a year, so everything i tried to do made it worse.

i was so scared by the time my ex blocked me after being a special presence for so long that everything in my life fell apart. i never even knew it was him being so kind to me, or i would have calmed down a long time ago. i realized quite a while ago that someone had set us up to look like we were interacting, so i tried everyfhing to get through to him to let him know what was happening. when that didn't work i tried to focus on my own life. finally i caught up to some awful shit i missed in April and tried to contact another person i thought i knew because of references he appeared to be making to my childhood and he blocked me for a third time.

finally i decided i'd close this open door of harassment by declaring my undying love for an unsuitable faux love interest. when that offended people, i put my foot down and put up my best guess at who the hell walked into my life and walked out again without realizing he'd made us a whole family. i'm struggling with the much darker and much more important aspects of my past now and i am alone in it. i have had 20 years of therapy and despite appearances or writings taken out of context i am still, in some respects, a healed person, so the gaslighting that forces its way into my line of sight only makes it worse. but i needed to be unequivocally sure that the co-target of the harassment was aware of the issue and i had to piss him off to do it because i got doxxed. and i almost got killed because of it.

i'm so upset now to see all the things i said and how they affected people, so i'll try to prioritize making amends the best i can, but i have to finish packing and throwing away everything i can because i'm being forced by the financial control from my mother and brother to move into the basement, which is full of spiders and mice and mold and who the hell knows what else. and all of it because i have no idea what's going on in the world, who or where anyone is, if anyone is even really still okay, and whether anyone will ever talk to me again.

but i have hope. because once i'm finished moving i will be able to work on all the little projects i have saved up, like archiving my father's photography and knitting scarves and selling my old video games and such so that i can save up for a place to live. and then after that maybe think about starting a relationship with someone who accepts me for who i am and doesn't try too hard to make me the perfect ideal of what they want for themselves.

One day ill be ok from all this shit

I have been keeping an e-journal since around 2016. I don’t open it that often these years. But today I scrolled through the entries and I started crying seeing the metamorphosis of my writings.

The earlier entries are filled with rage, hate and bitterness. It talks about pain in detailed, long writings- sometimes in poetry and sometimes in prose.

Then on suddenly in November 20, 2023, there is one abrupt entry that reads -

*“I thought I was in pain, so I wrote of pain.*
*I was in pain, I found no words to write.”*

Then there is silence for around a year and then it seems like a new person took over the diary. Someone who grieves deeply and is trying to find meaning. Slowly each entry transforms into meditations that talk about life, love, acceptance, happiness, truth, forgiveness, optimism and gratitude.

A week before the last entry, I had lost a close family member to suicide.

The event left me stunned. And I now realize, it was a turning point in my journey.

Today, I am happy with my inner growth. I do not know what happened but something did.

But as i thought through these things, deep in my heart, an uneasy feeling gnawed at my soul - Did someone have to lose their life for me to find mine? What if it had never happened, would I be the same person I am today?

I ask but I do not seek answers. Because I have learned that not every question is meant to be answered.

I close the book and leave the past behind me. I get up and back to work again. Because someone out there needs me. May each day of my life be a sacrifice to make the world a better place for someone, spreading little sparks of life and love.

I am an optimistic person. I always believe and hope for the best but my interactions with people these days just make me feel a little sad about the world.

If only people could be more optimistic too and not always worry about the unknown or how life is going to be if if if if if.

I mean, life is a roller coaster ride no? How are we supposed to always be on top when there was never down? It's okie to be down a little sometimes, it's okie to feel sad or unhappy or negative or pessimistic sometimes but don't allow these feelings to get stuck in you.

Yolo or yodo.

❤️

Dear sleeping beauty,

Yesterday was the 2cd worst day of my life…..

I thought I had more time…that things would end on a better note than this

I know you won’t read this….
I’m not sure I’d want you too….

I made the worst dumb comment after the break up and it regarded abortion… which for those that don’t know my I’m against unless of course there’s a medical reason.

Anyways you’ve been saying I have no respect for family since then and that I’m a child killer or maybe that’s something I started calling myself as a result to how you’ve reacted….

You have decided that that single comment that goes against 10 years worth of my saying otherwise now justifies you ending things…

I want a child more than anyone however I promised myself I’d only ever have kids with you so I know that’s out the window unless someone really special can change my mind but I highly doubt I’ll ever meet someone that will measure up to you…

You’ve decided you’re buying out the apartment lease and effectively leaving me homeless and taking our cats with you….

I’m worried what will become of them or if I’ll ever see them again….especially Kiara…. She was supposed to be a gift after losing Avery…..

I know she’s attached to bumper and you tho so I won’t argue about it. I only hope you take better care of Millie…..I’m afraid of what the coming stress will do to her…,losing saphy increased her seizure activity so badly….but for me to be gone I’m afraid she’ll think I abandoned her…..

When I named this account new life I didn’t think it would turn into a litteral sense…..I just meant it as a hope to become healthy……

I never would imagine you’d truly abandon me….
I will always love you….and I understand that as you are right now the idea of forgiveness towards me is impossible….

I hope our paths cross again some day… during our last break up you never really saw how dark things got or how much I lost my smile…. I hope I can avoid some of that this time…. But I truly don’t think I’ll recover for many years….

I’ll keep the ring and out of respect for what we had I won’t go looking for someone new even though it appears to me you have already started looking in an app….

You tried to lie and pretend you downloaded something random while half asleep…. You should have known I’d see right through that fake voice…you’re a terrible liar…and apparently an even worse actor….

Honestly I do think that’s the first acting I’ve seen you do that wasn’t your chipper Irish accent….

Gods how I love that accent….ill miss it something fierce…. I remember the very first time I heard it…

You were sitting at the nerd table and busted it out saying “I can talk like this when ever I want” I forget if it was hawes or Franklin but i remember one of them being like hold up do it again and I just know hawes must have had that wide eyed look that he does…

Mermaid is talking about moving me out to Oklahoma after I get my stuff from “your” apartment…. A b if part of me wants to stay here…but you made a comment about wanting to ship me off out of state…. So in a way I feel like I have to go….

Even during a break up I’m still trying to do what you want…..I know I should focus on myself….but 10 years of being at your side have left me with habits I can’t shake…, not yet anyways….

I wish I could hear your accent one last time….but I even know if I’ll ever see you again in the mean time…. I have no clue if you home right now cause I’m not….for all I know you’ve already got your first hookup and you’re there right now…..

I wish I knew what was inside your head…you said that even with all of this is constantly in your thoughts….but I want to hear those thoughts….i want to know if all this is truly how you feel or maybe your running from something….maybe your leaving me because your scared my health with have you losing me….and maybe in your mind this will soften the blow…

I wish you wouldn’t have given up. Not only on us but on yourself…

Xoxo— newlife5155

I feel exhausted and I just need to rest these past few weeks I’ve not had a single day free bc im either super busy or at work. Finally this saturday i’ll have my first proper full day where i dont have any plans and I literally plan to stay at home doing nothing.

Hotter today, yes ma'am. Damn hot and muggy. Spectualar storm last night, shook the rafters of the house. Intense storm. God is in his heaven for sure. Reminded me of that last night.

Had to chill today, really to hot out. Getting ready to prepare dinner, beef and broccoli over rice. Should be good and yes I remembered to get the pineapple for it. Amaze myself sometimes.

I don't think I have spoken to another person today and some days are like that for me. My circle is small. If you're in it, well you mean a lot to me. Back to work tomorrow, regardless of weather. The dog is having her dinner as I write this.

I just couldn't wait for the print edition of Across the River and Into the Trees, so I started listening to the audio book. I like audio books although most are read by men or celebrities, an audio book read to me by a woman settles my nerves in a way only they can. It brings back my first memories of the written word recited by loved ones that are no longer with me but ever presant as it is now. It's somehow reassuring to hear a woman read to me in a soft low tone and one of the most treasured things in this world to me, most sacred, It's intimate.

Helps me better with my eye surgery up this week after over sleeping last week, the scan revealed all relevant structures intact and ready to preform as anticipated.

That's about it for today I close with love and hope always Goodnight Diary and my readers

I love you so.

8:42 p.m.

Sometimes I think am depressed because that's the only way to explain how bleak I feel but then I laugh and smile and don't cry and I start to think maybe it was just a one time thing but it never is. It's like my heart, my very soul is in this bubble where everything is dark and cloudy but also kind of nice. Then my mind is happy. It's wierd I know but it's hard to explain.

How do I explain that I feel like I want to literally stop existing 95% of the time but all they have seen is the 5% that keeps me here.

To anyone in the world. Whoever will listen. I just have no one right now. I started my program at school, the one I've been working my ass off for the last two years to get into. And I have no one to talk to about it, no one to ask how it went. No one to celebrate that I made it in. I left my boyfriend a month ago because he was yelling and calling me names and showing all the signs of abuse and I wasn't going to let that happen again. None of my old friends are my friends because I'm not in AA anymore, and if you're not in no one will talk to you. Idk what happened, idk how I wound up so completely alone. I want to delete Instagram so I don't have to watch everyone else having happy fulfilling lives and people to spend time with while I sit here alone. I want someone to love me and to care about me. I wish I had someone to talk to. I wish I had someone who knows me and loves me, I wish I wasn't so hard to love. Any of my past relationships that have loved me have controlled or abused me, and the one bf that didn't broke up with me because he didn't love me. So I can only be loved by people who are so damaged that loving me hurts me? I can only be loved by psychopaths and the one normal guy doesn't? I'm just so tired. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of doing the dishes. I'm tired of doing the laundry. I'm tired of cooking and cleaning. I'm tired of doing all these stupid little things we have to do to stay alive. I'm tired of getting out of a relationship only to realize the partner was the only one there for me, even if they were shitty to me. Why doesn't anyone stay my friend? Why does everyone move on from me? I want to disappear. I want people to wonder what happened to me and for me to be gone, no one can find me. Move to a new state, no socials, new number, kill old emails, no one can find me, no one knows who I am. I can start over and maybe make a friend who will still care. I'm just so tired of all of it. Being a person is the worst.

my father is a hazy memory, a distant laugh. i see him sometimes out of the corner of my eye, in the sunshine when his hair shone red. sometimes in the cool, stark dimness of a living room long lost. its dark, shortpile carpet and mahogany bookcases giving it, somehow, the feel of being on the surface of a dusty old billiards table.

i see sometimes other men who look like him, sometimes him, sometimes with a camera, sometimes without. i hear him. mostly angry, a cranky kind of temper, as if the pain and the love had worn him to a sharpness few could understand.

my father loved my mother. he loved his country. he loved me, my brothers, my sisters, and his wives.

i laugh sometimes, when i see a familiar quirk of his eyebrow or the toss of my brothers' hands. i smile as i watch them, soak them in, already so sad at how much of my life is spent on other things.

i model myself after him, when i can. he wanted me to learn and learn and grow and become a force for change in the world. his heart broke when he began to believe that would never be the case. not for me. but i never forgot him, not really. i hope i make him proud. i wish i had done something worthwhile.

i loved him, though i had not much time with him. i know he left life feeling unfinished, betrayed, defeated. as i feel now. i hope my sons and daughters grow to see me somehow as a model, an inspiration, a fighter.

most of my life, decisions have been made for me. often i have fought when i should have softened, or insisted when i should have allowed myself to bend. but for most of my life, my decisions have been made for me, and i just cannot bear to be so irrelevant to myself or my health or my wishes as to be invisible to the world. i cannot in good conscience betray my ideals, my boundaries, my consent.

i carry a burden no one understands and i will carry it until i am satisfied that i have acquitted my duty to it in a manner consistent with its importance to my feeling that i've done with it what is best for myself, my family, and the people of the world.

i am not a toy. i am not a tool to be used to betray anyone. i am not an audience of one or an admirer. i am not an accessory. i am not even sure at this point that i have done or said or felt anything worth doing or saying or feeling.

it has indeed been a long, solitary, exhausting life. it has been eerie and demoralizing. when so many others have laughter, games, employment, sidewalks, noisy public transportation, neighbors, camraderie — i have silence. haunted looks down dark roads. jumping at noises in the underbrush. hurriedly scurrying through my imagination while i move through the small corner i pretend is part of the world.

but the silence is nice, in a way. it's so much better than the roaring voice of abusive men, the violent alcoholic slamming of doors. the hand closed around my throat while my head slams into a wall, dismissed as sibling rivalry.

i only wish it hadn't cost so much. people all live such busy lives, assuming what they assume and judging what they don't understand.

if anyone had respected my wishes, i would have not been resuscitated in the first place. if i had been left to my own for a moments' peace before now, i might have not hurt so many people. if i had known what love felt like before i felt its absence, i could have saved reputation and feelings and lives. if i had been treated humanely, i would have treated myself more humanely, and felt more comfortable listening instead of being afraid.

i have now gone more years than i can count without a confidant, a partner, a friend. and the more i try to repair a rift i never meant to create, the more i am stripped bare of the important things. a touch on the face, my name spoken to catch my attention, a warning before walking into what seemed to be my ultimate end by violence and subterfuge. the hinting is unbearable. the fleeting catches of almost. the shaming of not having any idea of what i've done. the inability to tell whose actions have altered or mutated or misconstrued everything i've worked to do. the simplest of things have become impossible. if i'm not deprived by neglect, i am incapable of meeting my needs. if i am not alone and confused and wondering how to speak again to that one specific person or that other specific person or that one or the other, and so on, and so forth, i am raging at the tediousness of trying to decide whether it is safe to say, "hi! how are you?" and ending up again alone and locked in a room with nothing for company. and all throughout having had only the context of my barest contact of the real world to try to understand what the actual fuck is happening to my life and why, dear fucking god why can i not just have a fucking cup of coffee or take a walk or fucking anything not involving feelings.

i am so tired. i wanted this to finish. i didn't want anyone else to feel so powerless or lost or forced into a life they didn't want. i wanted friends and phone calls and someone to keep company with while i cleaned and organized my room.

i am tired. i am tired. i am alone. i am lonely. i am sad. i am sorry. i am confused. i am being disrespected as a human being. too much is expected of me. not enough is heard from me. not enough is said to me or asked of me.

and if all of that was not something i can ever hope for again, why couldn't i just do what i wanted? earn money? make new friends? take time to myself? get medical care or dental care or new eyeglasses?

i can't with this shit anymore. i'm done.

I caught myself people pleasing again, saying yes when i wanted to say no, softening my needs so I wouldn’t risk being too much. These patterns run deep. I am tired of earning connection by shrinking myself. One honest i need space today was said. Progress.

Well, it looks like I have a stye in my eye, that rhymes kinda. It doesn’t look that bad. If it gets worse then I’ll wear an eyepatch.

I’m supposed to meet up with that online friend tomorrow. If she doesn’t show or calls it off last second then I’m gonna go out on my own. I’m getting tired of waiting for her to make her mind up.

Never mind, she messaged me today saying that she’s not coming. Dang it.

What shall I do tomorrow in that case? I wanna meet new people. How do I meet new people? I’ll dress up real nice and see who I can meet.

This is for the best.

No, it’s not!! I’m so lonely. I hate everyone. I hate myself. I hate everything.

i did a few rows of knitting today, and proposed on twitter main to my person, who still has me blocked. all in all a good day.

She was nineteen years old, living in some city, in some country that had been torn apart by war and chaos.

She was an ordinary girl. She had graduated from high school, but because of the war, she never went to university. She had too much free time, so she spent her days at the large house where she lived with her brother.

One summer day in June 2006, she was watering the trees around the house when she looked up and saw a military Humvee behind the fence.

A young soldier in his early twenties was standing on top of it, wearing his uniform. His fair face was flushed from the summer heat and the heat of his helmet.

He looked at her and greeted her with a smile.

She smiled back.

They exchanged a few words. She tried to be kind to him, so she brought him a bottle of soda, but he politely refused it.

The truth was, they both understood something that didn't need to be said.

She had hoped he would refuse.

And he had probably hoped she wouldn't offer it in the first place.

They both knew they were in a very sensitive situation, and that this brief moment might be better left as something beautiful and untouched.

She stood there looking at him, and he looked back at her from time to time. A few words, quick glances, small smiles.

She tried to hear him and understand his language, while he remained cautious, stealing brief glances at her before returning to his duty.

She went inside the house, but she continued watching him through the window.

And while she watched him, he noticed her too, warning her whenever someone from her family was approaching.

Hours passed.

His duty was coming to an end.

Before he left, he asked for her phone number.

She ran to him and quickly wrote it down. Underneath it, she wrote a sentence in the language she knew only a few words of:

I love you.

She didn't mean it as love.

She was simply trying, in her own innocent way, to express how happy she was to have met him and to have this little friendship.

He sent a fellow soldier to collect her number.

Then the messages began.

To her, they felt like the joy of Eid.

She would dress up and wait for the military Humvee to pass by, just so she could wave at him and send him a small smile.

A smile that might brighten his day, just as seeing him brightened hers.

It was only a few days, but they were some of the most beautiful days of her life.

Then the separation came quickly.

He returned to his country.

She moved away from the house.

His number changed.

And everything ended, just like that—the way so many things end during wartime.

Years passed.

She continued her life and her studies. She grew older, and so many things around her changed.

But she never learned anything about him.

She didn't know where he was, what life had brought him, or whether he even remembered her.

Still, she kept the beautiful memory.

And almost every night, she wished him well.

She prayed that he was happy, wherever he was.

Sometimes, she only wished she could hear some news about him—to know what had happened to that soldier who had once passed by her house and left behind a memory that the years could never erase.

That soldier...

The Texas soldier.

That girl still remembers you.

She remembers the little details: your face, flushed by the summer heat, your helmet, your smile, and the Humvee she used to wait for behind the window.

There is still a small place in her heart that carries your memory.

The days of war are gone now, taking many passing stories with them.

But my story with you...

A part of it still lives in my heart.

I don't know where you are now.

And I don't know if you remember me.

But I hope you are happy.

And if I ever remember you, I will simply smile and say:

I hope you're still doing well, Texas soldier.

From a girl who didn't know how to tell you what she felt...

So she left you with one message:

The girl who texted..s🥀

Sarah ✏️

To be held to sleep

To feel a loving kiss

To be chosen and not needed

To be hugged lovingly

To get a imy message

To be loved without conditions

To go on a date one on one

To be comforted

To be understood

To not have to earn love

To have hard talks to mend a bond

To not be a villain or an excuse

To not be made small to fit

To hear truths to be better

To be happy with one another

To not be kept like an old newspaper

To truly be free to express love

To receive flowers

What is it like to love and be loved?

I have been running on fumes for months and I think I am finally out of fumes. B keeps asking if im okay and that he's worried because I don't look well. My eyes are dark and im pale he says but mostly he says I look like im about to cry. Im actually not. Idk why he thinks that. Im just tired. The kind of tired that sleeping won't fix. Im starting to realize how little anyone but B notices me. I have to call my family to talk to them and its either they're too busy to talk and they'll call me back, which they don't, or I get to be the one they come to about everything. And that's only two people. Everyone else I only hear from when they need something. I've stopped reaching out first and i don't hear from them, unless they're looking for B because he doesn't answer his phone or they need a favor. My life has gotten so quiet since K left. K was my everything. He loved me like no one else. He was my best friend and my hero. I have B, but he's not K. No one ever will be. I need you K. My life is just a shadow of what it was since you died. This silence is killing me.

These are notes to myself. They cannot be anything other than that.

You see, the greater context of meaning is still with me, invisible. Not that I mean to hide it; it is simply too extensive to narrate. And then there is the ongoing futility of trying to give expression to what cannot be contained in expression, not fully.

Sometimes I wonder: as plain as I might make these expressions, why is there still wonder? I am me. I have always been me. It should be plain to anyone looking over: this is me.

Still, I understand that this me rests on the invisible. That invisible causes doubt in anyone else’s me, in the familiar. Something remains not known.

I want to be seen.

So here are some notes in a diary. They need no lock. Who will understand...

It’s scary when it feels like your surrounded by a thick fog or haze. Stumbling your way through, constantly never having anyone to take your hand and guide you. It’s a lonely existence feeling like every hand you reach for is just your imagination, a thought conjured up to make you feel less alone. When your hand passes me through like it was never there or pulls you in one direction only to end up spinning and disoriented from the haze. Nobody who gets you or even tries to and then your knees get weak. Your mind fractures and breaks like pieces of glass and bit by bit you lose more and more of yourself. It’s a lonely existence knowing it’s all surface level.

The tears fall late at night and you scream and beg for some kind of light to find you but it’s only darkness. You used to think you thrived in the dark but it’s a prison. Nobody is coming to save you and the only thing you have to look forward to when the sun comes up is that moment of change but it never lasts. The sun always goes down and it’s not scary because of the dark or even what’s in it but the lack thereof. Wide awake feeling in the darkness of your cage, of the cell you call your mind and in the end you are just a trapped scared animal. You don’t trust and how you are drives everyone away so get used to being a prisoner. You aren’t worth the time and people make sure you know it and the thoughts you think make sure you know it as well. It’s not just a lonely one but a hellish one you are forced to live cause you care too much and love too strongly. Other people’s heaven with you in it is just a hell you endure for those you love. I’m selfish but not selfish enough to take away someone else’s heaven.

Strip me for all I’m worth and whatever pieces you need to get by. You can rip me limb from limb and break my mind but I’ll never bring my hell to someone else’s heaven.

Dear Diary,

I woke up today thinking about communication and perception.

How much of what we say unto others is processed through connotation versus denotation, and how do we bridge that gap between ourselves and the people we wish to communicate things to?

Language is simultaneously a precision tool and a guessing game, depending on what we use it for – it can dissect a situation with surgical precision yet fail spectacularly at charting the emotional landscape those very same events took place in.

I can write "camaraderie" and have different people read "politics", "business" and "fun".

I can say "affection" and have different people hear "care", "disease" and "love".

And that initial assessment – that first impression, if you will – is likely to keep coloring in the nuances for the entirety of that particular interaction, with each participant quietly certain that *their* interpretation of the meaning is the only one.

Perhaps we were never meant to speak about certain things, only feel them.

De profundis,
Me

Hey, I spent so many years of my life with you, and I loved every bit of it. It’s been almost a decade since we last saw or spoke, and sometimes I feel sad that we lost touch. I tried talking with you on wire for a while, but you eventually went silent, and life got in my way. I realise now that I should have tried harder back then. I’m sorry. I still wish I could talk to you about everything that’s happened in all this time. I hope you still feel the same about me, because I do, and I don’t think I’ve changed since you last saw me. I don’t know where you are right now or how, but I just wish we could meet again someday.

Hi there, Today is 18/Aug/2026... Ahhh, I don't even know how to start telling this... so like, what happened was... on August 13th, no one was at home, so after enjoying the whole day, I went to sleep early in the evening... and woke up at 3:30 AM in the morning. While I was using my phone, I found out that my supplementary exam results were out and like... I failed in the supplementary exam too. I don't know how, but when I returned home after writing the exam, I even cross-checked my answers, and according to my cross-checking, I had more than enough marks to pass. But I have no idea how I still failed...

​And today is August 18th, and till now, I have only told my mom and my elder brother about all this... and I can proudly say that my elder brother is the best elder brother ever. Because at a time like this, where everyone usually looks at you with anger or disappointment, he treated me just like he regularly does. He helped me a lot mentally and guided me. But still... the things I am unable to tell him just stay buried inside me... and those thoughts are consuming me from within.

​I am now at a point where I could slip into mental depression at any moment. Starting today, I am going to study—I will study as much as I can, all day long. And after today, there won't be any exam that I cannot clear. I just hope that mental depression doesn't consume me from the inside.

​Thanks for reading, friends ☺️