𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙲𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚢 𝙱𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙵𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙.

~~~
It's around two in the morning, I have to go to a psychologist appointment at noon and I'm just laying in bed, all covered up (it's cold here) and looking up at the ceiling.
I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who does this.
Oh, and might I add, I'm using my phone as well and that doesn't help with my insomnia. 💀
I don't care, but I'm trying to take better care of myself.
So, I don't know what the heck I'm going to write about in this book of brain farts, but let's see what comes out.
~~~

I take a deep breath, as I usually do, and think about my life choices, ask myself many questions and overall, stress out about things that have already happened, yet I can't stop thinking about them.

Are there things that I could've done a better job at?

Where do I see myself in the next few years?

I wish I would've done things differently.

Am I improving as a person or am I going back to being an asshole?

Did I do anything productive today?

How do people perceive me?

Will I ever be good enough?

I hate myself.

Why were they so mean to me?

Why did they betray me?

Am I really that unlikable?

What was their problem with me?

Why were they scared of me?

Why did they paint me as the bad guy?

Am I a bad guy?

Am I a villain in their eyes?

Why did they look at me like that?

Why did it look like they wanted to step or spit on me, saying how pathetic I am?

Why did they avoid me?

I hold grudges. I know it's unhealthy and it holds me back, but they are the only reasons I'm alive at this point.

Resent, rage. They never betrayed me. They're the only constants in my life at this point.

Fuck those people, I don't care anymore.

They didn't care about me, hell, they're not in my life anymore, so why the fuck do I care so much?

They hurt me. They betrayed me. They saw me as someone inferior.

I feel inferior.

I feel small.

I feel pathetic.

I feel weak.

Why am I so emotional?

Why am I so empathetic?

Why do I suck at comforting people?

I hate people.

I love my family.

The irony is absurd.

I hate myself.

Daddy issues?

Yeah.

I need to work on myself more.

I need to make more of an effort to work on myself.

I need to help myself.

I need help.

I hate feeling helpless.

It makes me look weak.

Asking for help makes me feel weak.

Why are people inspired by me?

I'm just a pile of shit.

Why do people look up to me?

I'm a bad influence.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Why am I so contradictory with myself?

Why am I such a hypocrite?

What am I doing with my life, with myself, to the people around me?

I need to stop complaining.

People have it worse than me.

The thing is, I have the right to complain and some people don't. So I'm going to complain.

I'm going to complain about my life.

About the strangers around me.

About myself.

About anything.

Milk it out.

I hate myself.

So much passes through my head in a single second.

I sigh again and continue to type, looking at the time once in a while.

It's two fifty-two.

I hear a ring in my ear, as if something irritated it. I shut my eyes for a second and roll my eyes at the pain of exhaustion I feel.

I should sleep.

I will, after this.

I listen to the cars zooming down the fairly vacant streets where I live, and hear a vehicle that sounds like a bus passing by as well, reminding me I have to take one before noon.

I can hear my family sleeping, sometimes I hear them snoring a bit, but it doesn't irritate me. It gives me comfort. It keeps me in touch with reality. It reminds me that I exist.

My fingers hurt because I cut my nails too short. That annoying pain shows that I'm alive.

My breathing, even though most of my anxiety revolves around it, shows me that I'm here. Smelling any scent in my room, shows me that I am in my room.

The heat I feel under my duvet, shows me that I'm alive.

The fact that I am able to take my hoodie off, shows that I have control over my body.

The fact that I feel tired, shows that I'm alive and I require rest.

And as it shows that it's one minute past three, I notice how fast time goes by.

Time is so lovely, yet it slips through our fingers like water.

We end up wasting time by wishing for more time, and when we notice that, we keep on doing it. It's never ending.

I feel the cool air in my room cool me off and by now, I went from resting on my back, to resting on my left side, looking at the desk in front of me.

The laptop flashes on and off and it offers my dark room some light, just like my phone.

I get distracted as I re-read what I wrote, and I feel more tired.

I should go to sleep.

And with that, I decide to finish whatever the hell this is, and call it a night.

~~~
Yeah, I don't know what the fuck this is.
I guess it's just me being human and existing.
What happens on a daily basis.
I don't even know.
I'm tired, lol.
I guess this is part of my writing session for now.
See you all later.

Buh~Bye~ Lovelies~ ❤️
~~~