Thursday, December 11th, 2025 (Diary/Journal repost..wtf)

I have not written in here in a while, usually using this to draft poems more "viscerally." Though they are anything but. I admit I am afraid of myself. Terrified of peaking into my cracked rib cage and my sloshing heart. I like to think of myself as habitually reserved--at least in social settings. Being reserved means more time with myself. So I think and think of all the trivial things; how should I dress myself and appear in front of others? Oh! Shield your eyes from me as I do myself. I am avoidant of myself, i'm scared if I linger alone for too long my mind will whisper to me terrible things. Intensify all my insecurity and enclose me in the one thing I can't escape. I've gotten better though, I don't believe i'm passively suicidal anymore. Or perhaps i never was. I don't want to be introspective, but I am writing here as my mind spills and spoils terrible degrees of intimacy. I seek intimacy with others to avoid it with myself; usually the platonic kind. At least always brushed off as platonic, I want to learn about how they act and behave and criticize everything they do. As they agree and begin to criticize me, and we shall feed from each other, only to be brushed off as romantic or platonic. Perhaps I should become more intimate with my morals and humanity. Yes, I've changed, for the worse, for I am doomed to rot and beg at the feet of Satan in Hell. Yes, I've changed for the better, to kneel in front of God as his intrusive eyes rip me open and observe my physiology. I'm terrified of myself so I run and ensconce into others. Though I don't like strangers very much. I can hold a conversation but they start to peel back my skin and prick and prod inside. In places I'm too afraid to bear my eyes upon, so I let them because I have to open my eyes to have them stop. I am terribly terrified.