9/11/23 I hope envy will kill me cus I'm too coward to do it myself

Tw sh and suicide mentioned 

I woke up. Feeling shitty. I looked at the mirror to do my makeup and I felt like crying. Thoughts and more thoughts in my head. They're dark and slimy but sticky at the same time. 

I hate this makeup. I hate my eyebrows. I hate my hair. I hate what I look like. I hate what I am. 

I get on the train. More thoughts. I wanna cry more.

I see a text from my last therapist. The one who haven't tried to contact me since April. 

April. What a fucking bad time.

"Hi [dead name] how are you? I wanted to tell you that I'm gonna be back from next week. If you'll wanna come back it'll make me happy" 

If I wanted to come back. Like I was the one that decided to stop. Like she didn't leave me without even sharing a substitute professional she knew. I could have fucking killed myself and she wouldn't fucking know. Fuck you. 

I didn't answer. I'm not planning on answering. She's didn't answer for days. She can wait. I'm not planning on coming back. I'm tired of how expensive it is. I'm tired of how useless it is.

I go to art school. It's enough expensive and useless, I don't need more. 

I get to school. Today's Berry back in. Tons of ppl in the break room. I say hit in secretary n go directly to the classroom. The sounds of conversations hurts.

 No sign of Dragon. Idk where she is. I don't care. I just know there's Berry and his golden retriever and I wanna cry so much.

I set up the tables. They're somewhere in the other room, working on the school exhibit or some shit. I don't care.

I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself. 

I put on music loud. But after a while it's too much. I know when everyone else is gonna get to class. So I go to the sea before that happens.

Angry sea today. Windy. Cold. It's November. And I don't care. I can feel just this pain in the middle of my chest and nothing else.

My heart feels like slowly dying and I'm in agony. I want it to stop. I cry. I talk to myself. I cry more. I think. I cry. I go insane. I go numb. I go down in an abyss that's all in my head. Yet when I looks around everything is tainted by it.

I can't come out to my family. The won't understand. They won't care. Theyd ignore it. They say I'm doing it for attention. That I'm confused. Like they did when I tried to overdose on Zoloft years ago. 

I wanna harm myself. I wanna bite my arm. I wanna do so many things that involve me ending up in a coffin. I can't do this anymore. I cants live with this pain. I'm not just alone. Everything ab me is also wrong in some way. Why was I bron this weird? This wrong? This broken? And why should I survive it? 

If the universe wanted a broken vase to prosper it'd give it some super glue. 

There's no super glue. And so the bloods spills from wounds. 

And whatever feelings is inside my chest it's too much. Make it stop. 

I don't shed a lot of tears when I cry. And I can't scream. So nothing remains but the pain and the numbness. And I wish there was no pain. I wish the numbness was total. I wish it'd drown everything else. It doesn't. The suffering remains. 

Five minutes before class. I get back. We gotta paint. I put on music. I do the assignment.

It hurts. The laughs hurt. His voice hurts. That feeling in my chest. It gets heavier and heavier. I feel like crying again.

The time passes. Too slow. 

I didn't felt like doing lunch. Now I'm hungry. I don't really care.

The end of class comes. I leave my things in the other class n go to the sea. It got angrier in a few hours. It's colder. The shivers feel worse. And I don't care. I feel drop of water on my face. I stay there a few minutes. 

Back in class. Too early. But everyone is somewhere else. So I can sulk while doodling. 

The secretary guy calls me. He keeps asking if I'm okay. If I want water. If I wanna sit down. I'm not good at hiding my emotions. I have a mask on yet my eyes n my vibes reveal too much. I have a lock around my throat. And I try to talk like it's not there. "I'm fine" "I'm okay" he wanted to know why I didn't participate in the exhibition. "Those days I was working on an assignment, I forgot ab it and didn't know what works to send anyway." 

I get back sulking. People come back to the class. And every fucking laugh makes it harder to not cry. I shed a few tears.

But nobody sees me. And I got bangs and a mask and my hoodie on. My face is barely visible. So I cry a little. 

The prof was late. Half a fucking hour late

And I silently shed tears for that half.

Class feels too long. Again. 

It ends and I get the fuck out of there.

Didn't drink water all day, forgot my water bottle at home. A headache is hammering my head. It's so dark outside. The bus driver is sprinting. But unfortunately no deadly accident.

I don't know if I want warmth or the cold. I'm worth nothing and yet I'm breathing. 

I'll never be who I want to be. 

I'll die and they'll write a girl killed herself.

I'll die and it wouldn't matter.

As no one cries when a grain of sand in the desert moves.

But it's much too late, you're in the race. And so we'll press until you can't take it anymore.

Let out bodies lay, mark our hearts with shame.

A ghost writing from its grave, signing off.