I thought I was better, but I'm not.
I'm just different now.
I seem to be hell-bent on destroying myself.

Things I Contemplate While Sewing Buttons

Why don’t people realize that we're all affected by our environments and things that happen? It’s naive to think that things have no lasting impact on people around you; that people will always be the same and that nothing can change them. It’s rude, and it's selfish. We’ve all got filters and things get through. Good things and bad things. Everyone processes their environment and is shaped by what they experience. Some people’s filters are really shitty and let a lot through. Some people's are less shitty, but everyone's lets some things through. You’re not the only one without a perfect filter. We all think that everyone else is equipped with some fucking shield that keeps the bad from getting through. And we all think that the good always gets through. It doesn't. Sometimes the bad clogs it up and won't let it get by. It’s all just a fucked up myth that we’ve created to save ourselves from feeling guilty. It needs to stop. Guilt is a good thing. It stops you from passively letting bad things get through other people's filters. We'd all be so much better off if we actually let ourselves feel guilty.

This is something that I would normally write in a journal, but I feel like I need someone to know how scared I am. I feel so alone.
The real reason why I am so terrified about this birthday is because I am afraid that I might mean I'm middle aged. This is not something that I can say out loud. No one I know could possibly understand how it feels to think their life might be halfway over at twenty, and if I did happen to know someone who understood, I wouldn't want to make them think about; it's definitely best not to dwell on it.
It's not that I'm terribly scared of dying, and another twenty years sounds good enough for me, but I feel so strange and disconnected from my peers. They don't think about these things. I don't want to be okay with this; I don't want to think about my life this way; I want to be wrong. I've been told that the statistics don't apply to me my whole life, but I can't believe it.
I'm not special. Nothing ever works out for me, so why should my longevity be an exception?
I have awful luck.
I really just hope I can have a couple more good decades.

my body sucks so hard, and I feel like adding things to it makes me hate it less for not functioning properly.
it's nice to have needles stuck in you for a purpose that you've chosen rather than to give yourself shots or prick your fingers or to have someone else give you shots or draw your blood or stab your fingertips.

thief

have you figured it out?
why I say such stupid things?
it’s because you took my brain
and hid it.

I have an innate unshakeable awareness of my own mortality. It’s interesting how few people acknowledge our mortality. I guess it’s how most of us are able to live our lives free from extreme worry. If we focused on the fact that we are all going to die, how could we focus on living?
Death is very narcissistic. Once the thought of it enters into your mind, it doesn’t want any other lesser thoughts to overshadow it. It wants to make itself comfortable there and stay for as long as possible. It needs plenty of attention before it can be temporarily satisfied and leave. Even then, it always comes back and expects to be indulged.
That’s probably why most of us don’t let it get into our heads. Ignoring it, however, doesn’t make it any less real. We think we grasp the fact that everyone is mortal, but at the same time, almost all of us think we’re the one exception; "death doesn’t apply to me." I don’t feel that way. I know death won’t pass me by; I am going to die. When faced with this widespread denial of mortality, my acknowledgement of death makes me feel lonely and painfully human.
The odd thing is, I would not give up the awareness of my mortality for anything. I think the fact that I constantly feel (at least vaguely) isolated and inadequate makes me care more when others experience the same feelings. We all come equipped with weak spots perfectly suited to trigger these feelings. Some of us have many spots, and some of our spots are very weak. (Mine are broken.) I want to reinforce the spots. Especially for those of us who have a lot of them or really weak ones or both. I am pretty good at guessing where someone’s spots are and how weak they are. I also have gotten pretty good at noticing when they get hit. I try to fix the spots when I find them and repair any possible damage after a I detect blow. It can be tricky, though, because none of us want to look weak so we all try to cover up our spots. Unfortunately, covering them up doesn’t make them go away. Sometimes, it even makes them worse. You have to work to make them stronger.
Although at the same time, everyone definitely needs to hang on to a few reasonably weak spots. If we didn’t have any, we wouldn’t be able to understand how others feel when their spots get hit.

Incongruent

I just want to be better.
I want to stop hurting myself.
I want to stop being sick.
I want to stop being scared.
I just want to be better.
I want to be attractive.
I want to be interesting.
I want people to notice.
I just want to be better.

Do you know what I find curious?
How I would rather feel terrible loud emotions
And not want to exist
Than pleasant quiet ones
And not consider my existence at all.