I'm tired. Haha. Didn't do any physical thing that would make me feel tired. I just am. I want to sleep. I can't sleep. The thoughts won't let me. It's the same shit I keep writing about. I feel like it's redundant now. And I can't talk about it because I don't like the predictable responses. I don't know what I want. I mean, I do. I want to die but aside from that I don't know what I want so that I wouldn't want to die. Fuck.
I read The Bell Jar recently. I also read about Kurt Cobain. I watched the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I watched To the Bone. I still think about Theodore Finch from All the Bright Places.
Talking to strangers who are willing to listen doesn't help. I'm never in a communicating mood anymore.
I want to go running. At least I felt better when I ran. I wonder if I run later, will someone seize me for violating the enhanced community quarantine? I want to risk it. I need a thrill. It's one of those long weeks/months where I feel empty again.
I don't fucking want to live. I don't know where to go to to get comfort. Nothing seems to help. My unfolded clothes are by my feet since Tuesday and I can't seem to work on them.
Wow, these posts are getting longer and longer now. Lol. The previous weeks they were just short little tweet-like posts, just passive ones. Now I'm typing a lot, just to keep my mind off rumination.
Good thing I can still sleep. I force my mind to shut off when it's really time to go. It would be really bad if I'm sleep deprived.
I wonder if someone would find this blog and make something out of it. Or maybe it would just be another one that's going to be buried deep within the internet, never to be found again. I'm just a nobody, after all. Lol. Should I end this post now? I don't want to. I'd be stuck with spacing out if I do. I'm running out of stuff to type, though. Lol I'm kidding myself. I can type about a thousand random stuff if I'm not that exhausted.
I've got a few unopened messages in Bottled. Too lazy to open and respond to them. I'm not sure if I'm really lazy or just tired. A mix of both, most likely. I need a major jumpstart on my socializing batteries. I don't think this is the rock bottom yet.
Hey, if you've managed to read this far, I'm wondering what kept you going. People mostly wouldn't care or already get tired already. I'm that unimportant. They'd be rolling their eyes and would want me to get to the point. That's the problem. There is no point. People don't really understand. I keep getting flashbacks. "We love you, but there are times that we really don't get you." I mean, I know what they mean. I don't get why I'm so different, too. I don't really belong anywhere. Maybe in a psych ward, but nah I'm a bit functional to be in a psych ward, or am I?
What if I go out and be caught by the rovers and then they'd scold me for being one of the (idk what the term is) for the virus. And I'd answer, "I don't really wanna live, sir. So if I catch the virus and die, that would be really great!" but then that would be poor taste. Lol ugh idk what to do with my fucking life why are we living anyway why am i fucking here
Now, I'm imagining stabbing myself by the neck. Lol. Man, if my wild imagination got me anywhere...
Okay. I'm going to try to sleep now. Good night, everyone, if there even is anyone reading this. Or every nonsensical shit that I typed. Lol.
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