i didnt ask for anything as a child. hear me the fuck out:
I WILL ALWAYS,
ALWAYS
FEEL RAGE FOR THE INJUSTICE THAT HAS BEEN DONE TO ME

god has blood on their hands. the moment i get out of this body, i'll personally hunt them down and take back what is mine.
move on? pass on? build better energy or whatever the fuck they call it for your next life? motherfucker i am coming after you.

i will not bend over. i will not accept. i will not conform. you can shove it up your fucking ass.

considering starting a dream diary

i have strange dreams that i need to learn to listen to. i always have dreams pointing to the death of someone right before they die, sometimes when i'm awake it just comes to mind, out of nowhere.

my dreams are also often in third person, sometimes i'm not in them, sometimes i'm viewing multiple perspectives through an animal's eyes, sometimes i'm an element, sometimes i'm in the air, sometimes i'm a smell... the pattern is that i always seem to know everything. and yet i pretend to be entertained by the whole thing.

sometimes my dreams have whole soundtracks. people in them have specific songs tied to them.

how do i make a conscious decision to listen to them? to the signs?

cutting someone is a huge responsibility. they trust you to not overdo it and leave it completely in your hands.

you could be selfish, but that means you'd have to go through all the trouble again.

being under the influence of at least two substances this entire month has made me realize how i'm in a such shit mood when i'm sober. i genuinely don't find people interesting unless they have something for me, i don't necessarily enjoy spending time with people (i still do it because, the more i keep in touch with them, the more benefits i get).

if we were messaging each other right now, i'd lie to you and tell you i have some exceptions. i might be still bullshitting you. i don't always notice when i'm acting like this until i have no reason to do it anymore.

whatever, i am looking for volunteers. if you want to be trapped in my basement for as long as i need, because i need something to be my personal punching bag every single day so i can keep being nice to everyone around me, hmu

studies, working out, controlling and arrest

all is still possible when you're a junkie. actually, i do think it is easier than doing things sober. if you're smart about it, all you get is a few weak side effects while doing more than most.

i got into a really prestigious university, even for my standards (i obviously consider almost all universities just bullshit and a waste of time). i'm also building an actual life. you know me. i've just gotten better at not acting exactly like [redacted].

i will choose to stop wearing this once i feel tired from living like a corpse. i am still not a hundred percent dead, i still have my substances. i still enjoy the chase. i still enjoy the no-return decisions.

and well, exercising tires me out enough to just stay quiet for a few moments. i can lift yall now i am pretty sure. i realize that people only complain about going to the gym because of their lack of consistency. i'll start gatekeeping my workout plan now, most only achieve my results in a year minimum, and i've done far less. maybe i should have people pay me for it, lol

i'm also enjoying driving to places i will get actually lost in. i almost crashed my car because i was angry for not having dinner in the exact time as every other day. the older i get, the more i need to keep up with the same routine exactly.
the older i get, the more controlling i get with my own life and with others around me, it's just more tolerable right now, in this moment.

i also almost got arrested last year. i'm not telling why lmao. there's a few other things i would tell you, but i'm not stupid. i have a very helpful advice for you though: there are less consequences than you think.

oh, i also found something transactional, very beneficial in general. if it keeps being this beneficial, i will continue doing my part.

i got stabbed

it was only a matter of time for me to tell you guys about what happened recently. it's just as the title says and you know me, i can't not talk about it.

details aside, i didn't tell the truth to my friends so they wouldn't worry about my current situation as i find it unnecessary. i got stabbed twice, one of them is fairly deep and the other not so much. in that moment, i didn't feel a thing. not even a millisecond of pain.

i only noticed i was losing a lot of blood when i felt lightheaded after kicking the shit out of the person (precisely, their head). left them on the ground, went to the ER, got stitches and lied to the doctors so they would let me leave.
it didn't hurt the days after but i felt the stitches wouldn't hold if i forced it, felt like a big empty space as well.

overall, the experience gave me an excuse to do whatever the fuck i wanted. it felt real. i felt real for a moment. i didn't know it was possible to ever feel that way. it felt fucking great.