End To A Loop {2}

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{FEW MONTHS AFTER FIRST CHAPTER}
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Toya Aoyagi
heya

S
yo
oh that's new lmao
you excited to talk with me?

Toya Aoyagi
what
it was a typo

S
lmao
anyways you got new chapters?
kinda gotta practice soon

Toya Aoyagi
yea
oh for what

S
singing

Toya Aoyagi
you sing?

S
yea
i like it more than editing lmaoo

Toya Aoyagi
cool
i dont really do anything

S
your rlly boring so that's not shocking

Toya Aoyagi
fuck you too??
anyways just log into my acc

S
kk
what did u get on the wheel

Toya Aoyagi
incest, major character death, mom

S
why is incest and mom an option. wait DID THE GUY FUCK HIS MKM

Toya Aoyagi
yeah but his dick exploded lmao

S
you are a fascinating person

Toya Aoyagi
you just called me boring

S
i was kidding
kk bye, will fix later

Toya Aoyagi
kk thanks editor
——————————
     Singing. For some reason, I was almost surprised at that. I guess that's maybe the most interesting thing I've heard from anyone in a while, in an endless loop, in the middle of crowded facilities with topics that you've heard decades ago, filled with boring reputation. Sentences and words shoved into your already filled brain, woes and cries everywhere on your screen, make-believe creations and honest pieces of lies typed out. I can almost hear the tapping of the keyboard, the glare those give the screen, the frustration and aggravation those feel at your mere false, harmless words. It's what I used to feel, long before the scouring itself became a daily cycle.

It's somewhat annoying, actually, to have him be unable to talk to me and edit my fanfictions... oh, that sounds weird. Annoying. How is it even annoying? I mean, I don't know anything about him, it's been four months and I had only now found out he's into singing. It's not as though I care, really, I'm more frustrated over the fact he's gone. Or maybe I've just grown to rely on him for the edits. He's turned the "incoherent babbles" into "readable incoherent babbles", I don't know if I enjoy the idea of people reading unreadable ones anymore.

Shit.

Is this gonna end up as a new loop? Obsessing over some guy that somehow got my phone number? I don't like how I'm acting. It's as though I've become one of the things I've written in some story, something of two strangers falling in love, leading to some sort of heartbreak. It's not very enjoyable. The self-degradation was much more amusing, joyful to say, because it was true.

I'm wasting away my pathetic life inside this dimly lit room, only illuminated by a single screen, waiting for something to change, waiting for someone to force itself into my boring, repetitive life and give me some sort of joy, to make me think I'm not absolutely worthless. And for that, I tried to get into writing, even if I did it half-heartedly, even as those around me grow, advance, earn some sort of passion, I only sit here, thinking of sentences and essays of nothingness for those who don't even exist. It's pathetic, yet I say that as though I care, as though I haven't fully accepted I'm bound to do nothing. I think that's good enough for self-degradation, I doubt I could come up with better.

     I sit on my bed, only sighing. It's particularly boring without Akiyama or... S..., I've begun to properly enjoy the company at home, it's comforting in a way. I'm not in a writing mood, and so leaving me in an awkward position of absolutely nothing to do, again. No one is online, they have actual lives. It makes me wonder if I should try to find an actual hobby, though writing takes up most of my time, I guess I've grown some sort of talent for it since S had told me he did genuinely enjoy the incoherent babbles. I don't really understand how anyone enjoys them, they're worthless bits of words.

     It's trash, junk thrown into a yard to decompose, forgotten and abandoned by those who threw it away, those who created it, only a small piece in the growing pile of useless items that no one had needed. It was the perfect piece, something that felt almost essential, yet the second it was finished with its hour long time, it went straight to the trash can, yet still picked up, bitten, even if sour, by those who were far too desperate. I believe that's a perfect description of it, worthlessness in a plastic trash bag, yeah. I don't particularly care for or treasure my pieces of literature either, it's only meant to be there to laugh at, to make fun of, then ignore and forget. I prefer it that way, after all, I don't have it in me to truly be dedicated to anything. If I was, it'd become an endless sort of loop just like this.
•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•
{THREE HOURS LATER}
——————————
S
yo squiddy

Toya Aoyagi
..squiddy?

S
squid9's boring
——————————
I might actually set my name to squid9... I will. Guess it'd be a bit less boring to look at shit.
——————————
squid9
rude ass

S
LMAO
yea so i finished practice and edited it

squid9
kk
thanks

S
so like
how have you been

squid9
what?

S
how. have you been
what's so hard to understand abt that
thought u said u had good grades

squid9
I've been fine ig
nothing's really changed
also you said 'you'

S
thought you'd like my nice grammar

squid9
it makes you sound way more professional

S
oh
ill continue that then

squid9
I love talking with you

S
WHAT

squid9
I really speak to one other person

S
oh
emo ass
I have like
ten friends

squid9
cool

S
kk you gonna write more?

squid9
probably not

S
go sleep then idk

squid9
what
ok
——————————
     I could feel myself slightly smile, my face somewhat warmer. I don't know why I had even told him that I "loved" talking with him, if it was something we stopped I'd still be fine, it was more of a "I liked talking with him". I'm not that interested in creating a reliance on him for any sort of joy, like I had done with prior friends I had. It's not exactly fun to lose it all in only middle school, to end up in a horrendously messy room with some odd smell that would linger there for days, though I'm not mad or upset it ended up like this. It's only a perfect representation of me and my work; something that can be easily forgotten about, and remain unkept.

     My phone began ringing, forcing my body upwards to pick it up, answering it.

     "Toya Aoyagi, you need to head to class tomorrow, you're..."

     Fuck.
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WORD COUNT: 1144

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