4/12/23 Cold.

Tw whatever.sad shit, sh all that stuff.

Cold. Like every other day. Grey. Like every other day. On the train I realize I left the phone cable at home. Fuck. I can't let my phone die.

In the city I get a pack of cigs from the vending machine and then make a bonus stop in another place with vending machines and get a phone cable. Crisis averted. I get to school. My classroom is closed. 

Wait n wait.

A classmate from another graade gets into the room. "You're doing good" "yes" I lie in a voice too weak and so disgustingly feminine. I hate my voice. I hate my body. 

"I wanna fly away from my own skin and find a better place" 

I hate this skin.

 Purple gets here 10 mins before her normal schedule.

I need to stay alone, I need to cry. I abandon the idea to charge my phone now, take my bag and walk to the sea side. I don't wanna be here. I feel things but they're not positive. I can see the bottom of the sea. The wind is so cold. It gets into my bones. And I have but a jacket to stay warm. And like my sickness, I have just a jacket to shield from a wind too cold. My fingers will turn purple. 

I open the pack of cigs. "Smoking can cause cancer in the throat and mouth". And what am I but a tumor of this world?

Like an old clock, every second I swing between apathy and whatever I'm feeling. Tic. I feel nothing. Toc. I feel too much. Tic. I'm empty. Toc. Everything hurts. 

I get back to the school. Ten minutes before class. Door still closed. I retrieve the other bag I left inside. I walk like a ghost. I feel like a ghost. I'm nothing and yet I bleed. Don't perceive me. Please don't perceive me. I get back outside, sit on the stairs near the entrance of my classroom. And wait. 

I'm unable to act. I'm unable to fake. I can only but walk like a ghost. There's no energy left. Every second I risk crying. The cold makes my fingers numb. The prof is late. I read the group chat. Bus problem.

And I feel like I won't survive today.

I'm a ghost. I'm the shell of a fly.

Class time. Have I mentioned how much their laughs hurt? How tears form in my eyes when I hear them having fun? How many times I almost cried in that class today? I don't know. Need to work on my linoleum tablet. Can't have blurry vision. Need precision.

I think they wanna go to a convention that it's here around this time. Last year I went with another classmate I don't think I gave a nickname to. Or maybe I forgot. Not important. I was thinking of going this year to do some quick DND with the local association and maybe see the guy I got obsessed with last year n wrote weird poems ab. The transmasc that complimented my makeup. Y'all don't know who he is but that's okay.

Idk if he'll be here again this year, I've been stalking his ig account for any announcement. If he's there, I'll go. If he's not, I won't. As cool as DND is, it's a small convention and Im not in vein to see an extended group of my classmates if there's not also a cute guy I can awkwardly try to talk to yk.

These hours are so long. And then I clean up my space and I'm out of the door. Take my bags to the other classes, put tissues and gloves in my pockets and I head to the sea. I see them on my right getting out of the class when I'm walking. Or, more accurate, I hear them. They're singing loud the Rasputin song.

I'm a ghost. I'm a shell. I look like a human but I don't feel like one. Humans make sense. I don't.

On Thursday I'll need an actual coat. It's too cold for a hoodie. I cry a bit.

"I want to be torn apart excruciatingly, I punish my body cus it's not good enough for me. The scary thoughts are spreading like a weed, the thoughts that say that I deserve to bleed. They say that it gets better but I guess that was a lie. I guess we all just fake it till we die. Simpaty and love we can extend to someone else but it's harder when you have to love yourself"

I hum the lyrics. That disgusting voice is still coming out of my throat. 

Make it stop. Close my eyes forever. My heart hurts again. Make it stop.

Can ghosts sink into the sea?

Class. I want my brain to stop judging the work of others. I'm so mean. I'm so disgustingly mean.

Just me and Purple left to review cus we're the only ones on the left part of the class."Who comes first?" Prof says. I don't care. I'm busy hoping a meteorite strikes me. Purples says to make me go first because `°€×€¢{¢™{€°|[|™×©

I don't actually hear the explanation. Or maybe I just don't register it. It was probably cus I go after her always. Doesn't matter. 

Uneventful bus trip, uneventful day, uneventful everything. I don't even feel like crying. I'm just cold. That's it.

A ghost writing from its grave, signing off.