Disappointed - Blog Posts

i cannot believe i had to explain to a friend that the tiktok ban was a ploy to make our generation like tr*mp more. like i was genuinely disappointed in here for falling for the easiest propaganda ever

when she texted me to tell me it got banned, she was basically upset about her edits and stuff being lost. i had to explain to here that the ban wasnt going to stick because it was a ploy to make our generation like him better. she then was saying how he better save it and shit. she was probably joking but damn cannot believe i had to lay it out for her

genuine disappointment in her bro 😭

Can't believe they banned tiktok for a couple hours just so they could unban it and encourage everyone to put Trump's dick right up their assholes and moan about it

I JUST WANTED A MOMENT OF HAPPINESS AND NOW DAMIEN IS AN ANDROID?:?):

did not see that coming tbh

Mood.

Wish I was a boy

Maybe this is my best

It starts as a harmless poke to my shoulder. Never a serious matter for when I turn to question you, you respond with a bright smile and remind me that it is all friendly.

Your fingerprint begins to stain my shoulders and I turn to inquire your motivations. Quickly I am shut it down cause it’s nothing serious, just a nudge.

Times pass and the skin that you torment is bruising, the pain pulsates although out my body.

Your hand is tainted crimson with my ooze but still you address me with a smile, after all it’s just a nudge.

You burry your way through my skin and uncover the most fragile parts of my being. The foundation that I am built on is disrupted by your omnipotent presence that chips away at me.

I garner up the courage to question your antics as my bones begin to splinter.

But there is no body to restore me, I am spoilt beyond recovery.

Just as he is dead to me, i am to him. His stubbornness has buried our love.

She’s almost gone.

Liberated from a house that has tortured her for two decades.

Still she remains trapped in her habits, for it has always been so easy to pin it on circumstance.

An adamant refusal to acknowledge that the issue (and solution) resides within.

This will surely be a Brutal recognition

That gets me thinking about my approaching death. Death - the birth of my end. A begining to an end.

I have romantised my death so much so that I fantasise about it at times. It comforts me that one day all of this noise and music will stop. That i will be forgotten and i will not even remember that.

But i am impatient for this destiny to forth, i want it now. If i were to complete my final act and have my beauty froze. To shorten this life i know i have lived enough.

I am certain of this death and often anticipate my end. Surviving everyday has become so tiring.

Lord if u be, grant me this wish.

End me.

Im tired

And scared

(Typos ik)

Why it will never be me

I think one of the hardest relisations is that i will never be anyones favourite. Ive learned to let go of all of my crushes simply because they will always be overwooed by the next girl. It isnt even a case of me being hideous but rather how odd i am. I dont listen to their music, i dont have a alcohol problem ( halfjoke :/) and am more of a “soul crushing devotion” person.

Media is always teaching us to be ourselves and to be authentic but the moment one embodies themselves it falls into categories of pick mes or flat out annoying. Its just awful.

I wish i could be likeable and relatable but everything i do is labeled as weird… i would rather be uninteresting.

00:54

14 oct

It’s all on me

The Air that cloaks me is so still. I’m out past midnight and im scared. In a run down government funded hospital with floors that remind me of myself- so deeply dented and dirty that there exists nothing to cleanse it.

The low hum that the vending machine sings is accompanied with random outburst of the intercom calling for a doctor. This is a place of pain, a medium in which sickness and dread gather.

She tired to take her life. So soon, is all that I thought. Although she is physically alright, there is this distant pain that stings me- what if I had not answered the phone.

I hate to say it but she has proven them right, she is weak. But I only hate myself for thinking such and dread the fact that such thought occurred about my beloved.

I thought I would be able to catch up on sleep, but here I am seated on a steel cold bench waiting for the patient and her companion to come out. I don’t even know what they are doing to her. But I do hope she is not in pain.

Am I selfish for wanting her to stay? Yes…

But then again I think if she truly wanted to leave she would have by now. Her calling me gathered the fact that she still has hope, without hope she would be past that point.

But oh man, am I tired. Since she has not lived up to the expectations now I must. This is not words that have been directly communicated but rather suggested and installed throughout my youth.

I don’t feel much, I usually don’t when traumatic events happen, and it truly scares me. Why is that I am unable to process my emotions on that moment. It is only much later that they flood my mind and slash my skin.

Im just always wrong

Everytime i try to do anything, help someone help myself, love… im wrong. I feel as if i will never get this life thing right. Im careless and i hate that about myself. I make so many mistake i question if i myself am one. Im scared i wont every get this right.

Ive criticised of everything that i do to the point where i even question waking up. What if im not doing it correctly. The dread i feel forcing myself out of bed because i know that during my day i will yelled at for doing something, anything. Criticised for trying again. I hate this all. I completely, whole heartedly hate it all. There is somehow always a problem with me. I cannot take it

If i were to ever take my life it is because i don’t think I’m doing it right. Something about me is terribly off, my death is a mere correction a flaw.

I know I’m being far too critical with myself but i cannot help it, I’ve been judged for everything i have tried. Knowing that i am certainly a failure why should i aspire to be more. Of course, i still have a dream, a desire to heal and love others but i fear that when i try to climb up ill fall at the worst time. A fall so high there would be maroon gore splattered everywhere, i might even knock off the person that climbs underneath me.

Killing us both.

Hung up over a book? Can't get it out of your mind? Can't unlove it?

Go watch it's movie.