i'm trying to have at least one genuine conversation with someone daily over winter break so i don't become a hermit, and so far, it's been going swell.
not a nagito kin in the hopeful way but in the way where i'm obsessed with unattainable ideals, where i deserve to be hunted for sport and examined in a lab and used as a stressball and thrown across a room and used as a punching bag and locked in a dungeon and beaten bloody and abandoned by all those i love but instead i'm socially outcast and labled as a weird kid and that kind of feels worse and i'm bad at social interaction and i'm the only person who cares about what i care about and i look like a creep and people think i'd kill someone and also a nagito kin in that i'm gay married to sans
i'm not into cannibalism in the sex way, i'm into cannibalism in the way where i'm trussed up, treated as an animal, have the best cuts of meat swiftly chopped off my body, or i'm sold whole, as a roast for a large gathering. or i'm ground into a patty, flipped on the grill at a barbeque. or, on a special occasion, a family buys a leg of man. i, or my leg, is seasoned, cooked, eaten, enjoyed, i hope. i just wish to be sustenance for someone. i need to be a source of food. nothing more than a meal to provide sustenace for a ravenous diner. if i can't provide in any other way, so be it.
got a pair of uggs for christmas because my mom wanted me to stop stealing hers. i'm trying to break 'em in.
.i don't think my friends get it. i want to know them in such a way where they know every facet of me, perhaps more than i know myself, and where i know the same. i want to know their favorite color and favorite food and address and birthday and their favorite thing about me and their least favorite thing about me and their opinion on themselves and their life and what they want to do over the weekend and their favorite memory and what makes them wake up and why they don't like certain things and their music taste and what they think about as they lie in bed every night and i want them to know the same about me. i want us to know each other and love each other so wholly that we become each other, that the line blurs between me and them. they probably wouldn't like that though. they probably would want some privacy. i shouldn't be so intruding.
i saw a tumblr post and it struck a chord with me. i hate being the AB+ to everyone's O-. i hate being able to recieve everyone's help and good tidings and love and support and appreciation without being able to return any of it. i just want to give a bit sometimes, lighten someone's load, but no. i can't do anything to help. all i can do is leach off others.
whyyyyyyyyyy is spotify adding songs to my queue that aren't in my playlist i'm criyng.
i wish i was a real person.
last night, my mom was talking to someone on the phone. she was my old martial arts teacher. they were talking about their lives, how teacher hadn't seen me in a while. i don't really know how to feel about the teacher. she was one of the first people to make me want to kill myself. i talked to her once about how being a "gifted kid" made me feel bad, left out, how it sucked. she called me a spoiled brat who should see what i had in life. of course, that kind of talking doesn't help a sobbing 8-year-old much. i thought often of jumping off a building, and how, before i jumped, i would yell to anyone who was hearing, "dad, teacher, you know who you are, and this is your fault." i do wish i could talk to her once more. just tell her what kind of effect she had on me. i dont know what it would change, but i do wish to close up the festering wound.
i love my friends so fricking much like i would not be typing this stuff out if they hadn't been there when i needed them most. J, M, R, they know what they've done and why i love 'em so. i made new friends yesterday too, and i hope i can keep them. they seem really cool, and i'm glad they decided i was fit to be around 'em. and i've got my ikea wooden hand and an unhealthy attachment to it, and i've got new curtains, and i've got the camera R gave me for valentine's day, and i really think 2024 will look up. and i've got reasons, too. i've got to maintain this website, i get to play more trombone, hopefully i get to learn bass trombone, everything's lookin' up.
and, the thing is, i've got responsibilities now. i have to keep my friends. i can't just disappear anymore, not without leaving emptiness behind. who would spam my friends on discord and pinterest if not for me? my parents don't even know about those accounts, they wouldn't give anyone proper closure. who'd keep up this site? who'd be helping R and new M with trombone? of course, the music teacher could, but who'd give new M the math homework when he forgets his book? who'd "bless" V, and M, and R, and... too many people, really, with horrid pickup lines? they might be small comforts, but they're what i've got, and i've got to use 'em for the best.
Y'know what? i don't care what i said december 28, 2023. a fake person couldn't do what i do. that's why i thought i was fake and everyone else was real, because i had no effect on people's lives, and they were the driving force of mine. but, looking at this, i guess i do make some kind of impact. i've gotta be real if i do things real people do. i do things in other people's lives. i'm the reason for some things. people do think about me sometimes. i'm really happy now!!!
why can't i know what i should? why can't i just understand that people can't bend to my every whim? why can't i fix myself? why can't i fix everyone's problems? why can't i be a small respite to others in their times of need, when they are my sole source of comfort? why can't i help people? why am i trapped in my life, in my mind? if i could, if i only could, i'd take everything i'd said back. i'd have the right words, i'd know what's going on in other's minds, i'd know how to respond, i'd be able to do something. i'd be able to try. i can/t even try. i'll never be able to try. why did i think i was? i'm just stupid enough to think i can try to be a help, to think i can prove my worth, to think i have any worth in the first place. i could do anything to help, and it would be wrong. because i'm the one who's wrong, really. they all know something i don't. they all have deeper lives than mine, they have something more than me. and i'll never have that. and i can't try to gain it. and i do try, and i prove myself wrong over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and. over and over and ofver and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over again. why can't i be what i should be? i should be. a helper, a guide, a smiling face, a blessing, a touch of hope. that's what i should be. and that's what i think i try to be. but if i was really trying, how would i be failing? i don't try at things, i just do them. i hardly tried with piano. i've never tried with trombone. school's always been the easiest thing in the world. this is my first time html coding, and i'm hardly struggling!!! so what's wrong with me? why is the simplest endeavor the one i fail at? am i sabotaging myself? what am i doing wrong? i'm doing everything wrong. what can i do better? i can't do better. it's too late to do better. i'll be running this stupid rat race until i quit. no chance i'm finding a way out. and in the meantime, all i'll do is hurt people and overstep boundaries and say stupid things at stupid times and try to love and try to help and try to care and try to do what everyone else can do to me. i'll try, and i'll fail. anything new?
and i have the audacity to act like they're doing something wrong. "don't say that, i could easily use that against you." "you shouldn't be telling me this, i could screenshot at any time." "you shouldn't say that, you're garnering pity." they're only thoughts, and they are my parroting towards myself, but i should know how horrid it is to think that about other people. it does come from trying to help, but it's a horrible, backwards, disgusting help that does nothing to assist or to comfort others. i don't deserve to have the warmth that comes when you help others, when you're thanked, when you're reminded others love you. i don't deserve that kind of love. it's the simplest kind, but i'm unworthy of receiving it, due to my inability to give it.
best i'm saying this to a despondent screen instead of to living, breathing people who could be hurt by my actions, who could pity me, who could take this and use it against me, who could worry about me, who could do something about it. they could help me, but that'd be worse. i don't deserve help at my darkest hours. i can't give it.
and these aren't even bad times. people have gone through so much worse, so many more times, and they've been able to help a stupid kid struggling because they said the wrong thing. i've got so much more of a capacity to help, such surface-level scrapes i've been through, and i crumple. i break down at the slightest complaints, i lash out at the slightest accusement. i can't take criticism. it's something i hope to improve, if i can. i don't think i can, but i'll try to try.
i have my new year's resolutions ready. i want to try to play bass trombone, see some old friends, and work my way up to deserving someone. she deserves someone better than me, and i know i'll never be enough for her, but i do want to keep her as a friend. it's selfish, but still. at least i'm trying to not leach as much from her. if i can't do it, i will simply cease to stop using her. it's a little bit better for a good person to be manipulating her than a bad person, but if i stay a bad person, i'll lose her. i know she isn't under my thumb, even in the slightest, but it still feels like i'm manipulating her.
i really don't like it when people i know conflict with each other. even if it happens, i prefer to know all the details. i know i can't get them all the time, and it's selfish to want them all the time, but i just feel like i need to know.
i messed up in a game today. we were playing a game in class where you had to take points off other teams and be the team with the most points. it creates copious amounts of tension within a class of children. i blew it by breaking an alliance with a team. we would have made it if the last person in our team had answered, but he chickened out. everyone was pissed at me, but i was alright with it. i didn't need the bonus points anyway, and it was pretty fun to watch the drama unfold.
'twas i who was at camp for the past 3 days. there was snow, and i made friends with the cute girl and her brother. i thought she wouldn't like me, but it turns out she's really nice. the youth pastor moved me to a bunk with my friends, and that was real nice of him. i dropped practically everything i own on my band teacher, who was on the bottom bunk in the bunk bed we were sharing. i had no smores at the bonfire. i took a photo with me and the visiting pastor where i'm holding my flashlight strangely. i talked with aforementioned band teacher about how i feel wrong, strange, off. how i feel like there's something there that shouldn't be. instead of a hole or dent, an extruding limb, perhaps. she called it anxiety. admittedly, i was saying there was something wrong that i couldn't name. she said i'm a hard worker. i called her bluff on that one, but she still believes it. i've never worked hard in my life. i only do things that come easy to me. i don't know how to work hard. she gave the example of how she's seen me pull through with tears in my eyes,how she's seen me do that. i don't think that's work. that's the barest minimum, practically. this younger girl who i know from band said her friends were being mean to her. i told her she was better than those losers. i don't think i helped much. i offered to duct tape them to a tree, like they said someone did.
around november, i had a dream. it turned out i was actually amab, and i had to get a phalloplasty for some reason. i was excited, happy, yet a little confused. why would i need one? i was glad to get one, but i'd been living alright. at a moment during the dream, a voice asked me to look in a mirror and tell them what i saw. i looked, and all i saw was myself. i woke up.
still cis tho
just want a huge penis
and to look like a teenage fuckboy
and to have a gay lil' mustache
i'm cis
i might break up w/ my boyfriend. it's been overdue, really, and statistically, we weren't going to last anyway. he hasn't done anything wrong, i just know i'm maturing more quickly than him, and i'm outgrowing him.
i have knockoff therapy with my band teacher tomorrow. i don't really want to do it, but after the breakdown at camp, she insists. i'll have to miss lunch. i dunno what we'll talk abt, but i hope it ain't too intrusive. then again, it could be regular Bible study like what she said, but my other friend who does it called it theraphy, so i'm rolling with that. teacher called me a hard worker today, said i was in denial. bet she doesn't know i don't study for my tests, that i quit doing homework 2 semesters ago and still passed with a 90 in 2 classes, and higher in all others. i do my homework now, but it's only because i force myself to. i would've quit piano by now if i could without disappointing my teacher. i don't know how to work hard. i can't take notes and review them, or study for a test, or check problems on a quiz, because i've never needed to. maybe ignorance is bliss, but i know it'll come crashing down on me someday.
broke up w/ the bastard!!!!!1!!
the only people that clock me as a boy are using it to call me gay, which sucks. i got a photo of me looking like a tiktok fagboy, and it's been p gender affirming tbh.
will the guilt ever end? when will i stop being a useless burden who uses his struggles to hurt others? when will i deserve the humanity i have been erroneously granted? when will i deserve what i always thought i did? when will i get what i deserve? i hope i get what i deserve. not exactly "hope," per se, because i know what i deserve will be torture for me, but i would prefer to see justice properly administered.
i'm letting her control me. i'm letting her boss me around. it's only fair, considering i've done the same. i still don't deserve her.all i can use to express my feeling is her own words; "i'll never be good enough for you." i made a joke about transitioning, and she said if i did, she'd abandon me. that made me feel like shit.
i started packing with just a sock. it feels sooooooo fucking good. it's so fun, especially with pants. i wish i didn't have to hide it as much, though. showing too much might make folks ask questions. i'm talking with a guy from band about how i just wish. i wish i could have masculine features. i want big arms so badly. i want sideburns. i want to have to shave. i just yearn.