[Journaling](Day 5) Why hell do I wish I was not here right now.

Another day, another night. Pointless.

One long day later, I sit here, about to faint asleep. Let's run over it all.

Started at 8, too early for my tastes, and got a lesson on binary floating-point representation. Blergh, probably my least favourite topic of the entire year in this class. So I paid about as much attention as I do in English lessons. Followed it up with some time spent on a couch working on the practicals, and did some proper progress, I am glad about that. Then, a class on some programming methods I did not listen to, because I was busy playing chess, and finally a math class on local function studies. That was interesting, to say the least.

Today reminded me 5D Chess was a bitch. Ugh. Got a meeting with the headteacher tomorrow, prolly about the whole "I need support" mess. With any luck, I will get help. Or something. I hope so.

I learned today that I'm about in the top 33% of the class. Some would see it as amazing, but I do not. You're reading a post from a kid who's never been out of the top 20, if not 10%, and it's all been going downhill. Can't even blame the pressure the school puts on me because I literally have nobody but myself to blame. But yea. It all sucks. It all fucking sucks. I never learned to work and I am not starting now. I'm already boned, what else is there to do?

Cutting has been easier and easier. 'Nuff said.

I'm out of paracetamol.

I'm worried to the bone about my friend. She seems to be barely hanging on, she's probably the one friend I can talk to that's left, and I really hope she sticks around. But she struggles in a way I can't help with, no matter what I do. And I just feel like the clumsiest moron every time I try and talk to her about it. I won't handle another departure well, especially seeing how worse I've been handling everything these past few days. Still,, not the first one. I'll survive, I always do. But this time it will be more surviving than living from that point on.

I'm tired as all hell. Got a presentation on communism tomorrow. Time to botch it all and get it over with. I'll disappoint everyone who was waiting for a deep dialectical critique, welp, that's what you get for placing your hopes in me. Noob.

I've been trying to hold together a made-up world for years, and this year is really making one arm try and make the other let go. As who was it sang once, "It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy". Sun Tzu probably talked about it once.
That's what I get from being a theater kid. And supergluing the masks to my face. And forgetting about them so I glue some more. And then some more. At this point, it's either try and scrape a few layers at the risk of just falling back on just another made-up mind, or scrape too much and pull off the skin. Is any option worth it? I don't think so. Will I have a choice? I don't think so either. All in all, the weight of the masks really tends to put weight on my neck.

I thought about it. It's been months since I last cried. I tried today while going back home. I couldn't.

This day brought me a headache and a few more lines. But mostly a headache. A big one. Help.

It is then worried, hurt, and mostly apathetic that I end this post. A bit longer than last time? I don't know. Speaking of all of this feels good. It's like screaming into the void, but I'm still leaving a mark. I want that. I need that.

Goodnight, lone reader. I wish you the best of sleep.

I always wanted it to be like this for us
Strung out on love, alive in the city
Pulling triggers like the fashion was a loaded gun
My head in the crosshair, brain of the chosen one - Ethel, The Murder Capital

Laporte, signing off. I'll catch you tomorrow, around same time.