Pillows

Needing to scream and then cry lol I want to hate until I shrivel into my corner of shame. I feel sad for the people having to bear my burdening presence

Struggling with suicidal thoughts and its dragging my spirit down. Turning me into an empty husk that enjoys nothing and craves comfort

Swing swing swing swing swing good day miserable I am sorry, I am sorry I am sorry, I wish I was better I wish I was anything at all. Bell I hit it for attention to myself to hopefully feel like I am more than a cardboard cut out

Bell

Bort

Bad paranoia, physically exhausted from keeping my anxiety down cause it feels like everyone is inspecting me lol

I can barely be coherent lately lol. Making a sentence is hard, trying to say things often leads me to giving up mid sentence.

Been struggling eating more than a little bit of food every day, so i bought two chicken burgers and ate them really quick and now i am nearly vomiting for the past three hours lol. Brains being broken
Just give me the nutrients to fucking supply my braaaaain

Gluh

God my day was like the You are not bunny girl gif, cried twice in the bathroom at work lol. Good thing everyone is sick cause thy just though I was tired

not

Its hard to fake not being in pain its it hurts it sucks I hate it. Nothing to cut the pain no vice, no nothing, art fails, because I have nothing to express and my pain is meaningless. It does not matter and it would it change. Keep faking and hope its real some day. Hope I just move on, hope I just die, hope im just forgotten, cause the harder I fake my sore reality is nothing but fakeness, then what am I, nothing. My love is fake, its just a form of possession for the sake of having what i dont have. I draw to emulate a fake feeling I wish to feel that others seemingly have. But its fake, i dont know what they feel, ill never feel what they feel,its imaginary, my reality is imaginary. I starve with money, i fail my friends, i steal from family, i lie to people who i am. Every drawing i make is a lie to people and only steals their time. I want to be loved by them but what does that mean, cause if they would love me the way i love them, thats not even real. What does i want, them to be obsessed with me? The guilt id feel as they would have to completely fabricate who i am to even love me, just like i do to others, to them.

Broken element

lol I need to not be
Its the swing i cant handle it its
So hard to handle the swing, its wearing me down lol. i love it, its real but its painful

How dare I try to be interesting.

How terrible my existence is on others. My false hoods, my failures as a human being. My addiction to the unknown and the pained desire for what I want from others. I wish I would die to not interfere, to not give myself hope, to not have others think I am real, to not wish others love me, to not have others love me. It'll only come when I am not ready for it, since I don't have power over my own death. If I did, I'd me a person, and their for atleast have a reason to live. Instead I'll live in limbo. I only hope I bring more happiness rather than the misery and disappointment my existence causes I beg I beg I beg to lose my desires.

Tragedy

Its unbearable that I can have so many people, family, who love and care for me and yet i dont feel like i belong lol. Happy holidays fr though

Joy vampire

Pursuit

lol I want to die, please let me die. It hurts so much and swings just get worse, but I wont let it end, I wont let it go even with this fucking pain, just. Just please. It wouldn't even matter if my dreams came true, and impossible things came to me, I'd still be this miserable, please.

yet it still continues without letting go

Unrequited panic as the sensation of jealousy in my sense of failure as a person pushes through my sense of self. The demand and desire of attention, to confirm and consolidate all sensation I wish to demand, to let my sheer personality impose, fails repeatedly. I feel shame, a overwhelming disappointment in myself for feeling this, a guilt that hopefully is not shown through my behaviours, but is likely suspect as I don't believe I am as illusive in my shame as I think I appear. Its humiliating but I take solace in my genuine interest and care. I can feel "jealousy" while also being honest and curious, I hope that what will show more clearly through my mask is is that's genuine aspect of interest. At moments I feel content with this, others, the mass of dread of what I think I am missing, and the truth to the matter that I really could not match that, other wise, id have it. I want to scream and beg, to cry for a reason why, why cant it be me, though I know the answer would only harm me and everyone around me. I feel a constant pressure of self containment which I am failing at at every moment. The most ironic part is even if things went well, I am still the same broken person, and I'll lead on to the next obsession. The pattern is hard to break when I make it such a big deal, its like I've staked my life on it, it's fucking embarrassing.

I wanted to do art in this but I wont

Sometimes I think I should leave, like it would be better for me and for everyone. But I never do.

Since child hood I never felt connection to religion, people, I didn't idolize Heroes or artists, or their creations. Nature was the one thing that was truly there, and even yet, most days I'll stare into it with complete ambivalence, only sometimes feeling a spark of its grand scale.

Nature is one of the things I feel utmost connection too, yet I do nothing to stay in it, maybe i am afraid I'll lose connection to it as the yearning for its presence disappears, and it will become a thing I blankly stare into like a empty canvas

Sorry for anyone who's followed this thinking its gonna be art or anything.
It gives me some level of permanence when I complain, cause then I am atleast thinking, and not constantly empty.
I used to listen to stuff to drown out my head with thoughts, now I do it to fill my head with anything.

When I feel an emotion, its just that, and I have to figure out why afterwards. I speak no language in my head, I had to translate each thought.

I feel often like I am tricking people with my art, with my introspection, that I am even a person. I feel guilt for waisting peoples time. I bait people with flirting, my art, and seeming deep with questions. I listen to people but I can't actually say anything in return.