Depressing Shit - Blog Posts

I was sick last week, and that gave me the opportunity to waste all my time on reading and writing and thinking...

Now im just simply feeling like I might cry in any second, I'm tired of school, tired of everyone, especially myself, and i can't focus on anything.

I fcking hate myself for it, because I have really important exams and events coming up and I don't even have a reason to feel this way.

I know the problem is with me, but I can't help it, I might just give up at this point.

Not An Update

Im having a hard time writing the next chapters of Demigods of Valyria because I just had to put my cat.

I'd only had Xena for two years after we rescued her from outside because she had severe wobbly cat syndrome and couldn't walk. Yesterday, April 23rd I had to make the decision to put her down after she had an absent seizure while I was at school. I held her as they put her down and that was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do so I'm not up to writing.

She was my anchor. I've struggled with suicidal thoughts for years and for the last two I've stayed alive to care for her and now I feel lost.

I'll try to updaye when I feel better but I make no promises.

It bothers me that I will only ever be myself and no one else and I will never be able to touch another person's mind with my own and how I perceive the world will be based solely off of myself and I can never truly be with or apart of something because there is such a huge disconnect between what I think and feel and why and how and what other people see think and feel and there can never be true togetherness because we are our own and isolation is the price of intellectual freedom from a unified consciousness

Def not morbid poem

Can one tell I got depression? I don't think so...

An even sadder Kuzuyuuma fic becos why not? ( a bit out of the Borderlands theme but I needed to make it extra sad so just excuse me)

"Kyuuma."

"Hmm?"

"You'll always remember me, right? Even if I go to some faraway place and for a long time... you'll always remember me, right?"

"What are you saying, of course I will!"

"...Good. Just asking."

It was time for their plan to beat the joker card. The card that had been directly responsible for the death of so many innocent people.

They decided not to tell Mira and Shiirabi. It would just be their little secret between them. If they ever did need their help, they would tell them immediately.

"This joker isn't some ordinary guy. To defeat him, as the ancient prophecy had foretold, we'll need a word powerful enough to cut his flesh, and a swordmaster willing enough to wields the sword to cut his flesh."

"Hmm. I get the sword part, but why would the sofar not be willing to cut the joker's flesh?"

Kyuma, again with his baseless questions, said out loud.

"Well, I wouldn't know," Kuzu replied monotonously.

"Anyway, apparently now we have to go to the Requiem Of The Echoing Depths (and yes I copied that from Genshin) and find the sword? I have no idea," Kyuma replied now energetically.

"Well, we already know where this Requiem is, so let's go!"

---------------------

"Uh... this is it? Doesn't look very Echoing Depthsy- wait Kuzu don't go in yet, wait for me!" Kyuma shouted to his glasses guy (yes, his glasses guy)

After a short period of walking, they arrived at a fork.

"It splits two ways,"

"Yes, that's how a fork works,"

"..." Kuzu tried not to show any emotion regarding the insult-compliment Kyuma just threw at him.

"Which way should we go?" Kyuma questioned.

"Um... I think we should go the left way? I might be wrong, and there might be a trap there, though," Kuzu sounded his opinion.

"Oh whatever! If there's a trap, we'll figure out how to escape it together, let's go left if you think so then!"

And so left they went.

And indeed left was right. (Pun intended)

They arrived at a room with a stone pedestal. On the stone pedestal, there was a little device that looked highly technological enough Kyuma could swear it was built by aliens.

They reached forth to take it, careful of any traps, if any.

"Seems like some device for... sword-making? Kuzu, we found the right place!" Kyuma announced as he read off the label, which literally wrote: "Sword-making machine. "

"But how does it work?"

"Let's take it back to the HQ first. There might be traps around here,"

"Oh yeah, let's,"

-----------------------

"... Wait. I think I know how to operate it."

"Wait, you do? How?"

"The joker is a really twisted god. He must have put this here so he could give those who want to kill him a chance to. But there must be some kind of twist behind it..."

"Oh yeah, well said, Kuzu,"

"Uh...ok, concentrate... uh... no this doesn't work" Kuzu's failed attempt at activate the device was greeted by a slight smirk on Kyuma's face.

"Well, whatever, let's go get some snacks," Kyuma, distracted by his hunger, informed the lawyer of his whereabouts, then disappeared into the lunch crowd.

"I'll join you later!" Kuzu shouted at him against the noises of the other citizens' and dealers' conversations.

"...So that's how you work it. A true "hearts game" indeed. Then I'll take it. It's not like I could let anyone else take the glory anyway."

"So... you have decided? Are you sure you want to do this? Is it really worth it just for me?" A dark silhouette arose from and surrounded the device.

"To defeat you, anything is worth it!"

"Ah... I see... a memory for a memory..."

"But don't think you get the easy way out. They are going to remember you until they leave this land. And you...

you... are not going to die. I will keep you alive, as the "true hearts game", after all..."

"...Just one question before I go. ...Why?" Kuzu questioned the shadow.

"You ask me, why? Why, indeed, I do not know either," The Joker replied honestly.

"So, that's why... alright then, do it.

I shall defeat you, Joker of the Borderlands."

"Ahahahaha, yes! Then let the games begin!

Although, I'll need the help of a certain nudist..." The Joker hinted at musingly.

"?!? ... You leave him out of this!" Kuzu replied defensively.

"Don't fret, It's just that I can't take a physical form, so I'll have to possess someone to..."

"Kuzu? What..." Kyuma, seeing that Kuzu hadn't come for the snacks yet, came to find him.

"Ah, perfect timing!" mused the Joker.

"Wait, no, Kuzu don't...Aahhh," The Joker had already taken control of Kyuma's body.

"Just do it. Defeat the joker, and save all players and players to come!"

"Now, I want... that knife over there. The sharpest knife in the shed, eh?" Kyuma- or rather, the joker- reached for the knife on the table he was gesturing at.

"Please don't..." Kyuma pleaded with him.

His hands had gotten hold of the knife and was plunging it into Kuzuryu.

It was his own hands that was killing Kuzuryu.

His own hands.

His murderer.

He caught Kuzu in his hands as he fell over from his wounds.

"Ugh...it...it's ok...I'll probably... with... these... wounds...go in about 30 minutes..." Kuzu reassured the nudist.

"Please, Kuzu, don't..." Kyuma continued to plead with him.

"Please...forget me..."

"Ah, what a sweet romance this is! Shall I end it for you?" Amused the Joker, clearly either not able to read the room or just plainly oblivious to the moment of silence Kyuma obviously needed.

"YOU SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!!!" Kyuma was mad now.

"...You said you...didn't have a ...physical form, yet gave us a... sword to ....cut your flesh... what are you... planning at?" Kuzu came to a sudden realisation of a contradiction within this cruel god's words.

"What? Oh, that? Oh, I do have a physical form, I just wanted to enjoy the drama of this guy being the one to drive the sword into you, and I must say it was pretty-"

"I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP! TO JUST SHUT UP!"

"Oh and did he mention? For the rather large serving of icing on the cake, once you return to the real world, all memories of him will be word from the surface of the planet! You won't even remember him! AHAAHAHA!" The Joker was starting to sound a lot like Mira now. Granted Mira would never do something like this.

"...I will kill you."

"What?"

"I'll kill you. With the sword and my own two hands."

"Oh right, before I forget, here's the sword! It's made with the memory and life force of this glasses guy here! Aaahhh how interesting!

If you need me, I'll be at the Requiem Of Echoing Depths!"

And with that, the Joker was off.

Kuzu had already lost consciousness from the blood loss, and all Kyuma could do was hug his lifeless body.

"I'm sorry.... I'm really sorry...."

-----------------------

"Ah, so here we are, the nudist with his sword. And I thought you wouldn't want to come anymore after that last encounter, hmm? Anyw-"

Kyuma didn't even let him finish speaking. He straightaway swung his sword at the Joker, barely missing him.

"Oh, so we're really getting serious now, huh? Alright then...Gahhhh!"

Kyuma swung his sword again, this time plunging it into the Joker's stomach.

"Hey at least gimme a warning first, right?"

"This sword... is Kuzuryu's sacrifice. I'm not gonna let that go to waste."

Kyuma lunged forward, and before the Joker could have had any time to react, stabbed the sword into his neck and cut off his head.

"Congratulations. It is game clear. All survivors will be sent back to the real world," The familiar robotic lady voice announced.

"It's game clear, Kuzu, it's game clear," Kyuma cried, hugging the sword dearly.

--------------------

"Oi, Mira! It's your turn to pay today!" Kyuma reminded Mira of what she was supposed to do.

"What? No! I paid the last time, so it's your turn to pay now!" Mira then reminded Kyuma of what he was supposed to do.

"Shiirabi, whose turn is it to pay?" Kyuma and Mira both questioned their trustworthy third party.

"Um... Kyuma's?"

"I KNEW IT pay up now~"

"Ughhhh, fineeeee" Kyuma whined as he got up out of his comfortable seat and got ready to pay the bartender.

"That'll be $93."

"Ok. Give me a moment to find the money.."

Oh, there was already someone paying.

Wait.

There was something oddly familiar about him.

Was it the hoodie or the mask? Kyuma didn't know.

"Um, Hi. You look familiar, have I seen you before somewhere?"

He must have really startled the guy, because the moment he heard his voice, he immediately tensed up.

"Oh... uh... no." The man responded.

"Uh...I don't have enough money, I'm sorry," He turned to inform the cashier.

"Wait, lemme pay for you," Kyuu swooped in to save him from embarassment.

"Huh? Nononono, I can pay for myself..."

"No need, I've decided to pay for you, which means I'm paying for you no matter what you say! By the way, what you said just now really reminded of someone I feel like I know...

Well, you look really familiar, hey I know! How about I take you to my friend Mira? She's a psychiatrist, maybe she'll know why I find you so familiar!" Kyuma suggested.

"Oh, Mira..."

"Hmm? You know her?"

"Oh! Uh... no! It's nothing,"

"Oh right, I haven't even introduced myself yet. My name's Ginji Kyuma. What's yours?"

"... Keiichi Kuzuryu. A pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, well, we should meet up some other day, eh Kuzuryu? Mira's waiting, and if I don't get back in time, she'll slit my throat (literally)!"

"Yeah, that sounds like Mira alright, um, bye!"

Kuzu bid farewell to the enthusiastic little man.

After he left, he took out his phone.

Or, rather, his Borderlands phone.

RE: RESET DATA. CLEAR ALL MEMORY. RESET MEMORY.

...

GAME SAVED.

Whew this is really going out of the borderlands topics but I needed to have some sort of way for them to erase memory of Kuzu's existence so yeah.

Leave a note if this made you cry! I hope it did! And I hope I didn't sound like a pyschopath in the above sentence!

Btw the $93 Kyuu pays for Kuzu is actually symbolic of the Kyuu's 93rd day in the borderlands, which is the day the citizen quartet clear the K♡.

And also this is shitty because it's out of the botderlands theme but hey, at least I tried, right?

A little depressing citizen quartet story as if you aren't sad enough already (also pls excuse my shitty writing)

"Three Sheep, One Wolf"

"The four of us are unexpectedly awesome, eh? I mean, it's not like we participate in games together, but we meet everyday, and so far, no one's died yet!" Ah, Kyuma, ever so optimistic. He couldn't exactly say the same for the other three, though.

One was an old man who often liked using the words "breathing" and "suffering" together in the same sentence, often implying the same meaning.

The other was some lawyer dude with glasses that talked about equality every possible conversation he gets into. (Okay fine, he doesn't, but he liked to add that in because he thought his boyfri- Uh, I mean, good friend had literally nothing interesting to write about).

And Mira was just... Mira.

Granted, she was fun to hang out with, but Kyuma couldn't help but find her a little creepy at times.

But make no mistake. He may have listed his friends as simply boring here, but he got along pretty well with them, and liked them a lot.

"Wow, even after becoming citizens, we still have to participate in games? Why tho?"

Their phones had just received a notification from an "unknown number": Congratulations on attaining citizenship! You are now all citizens of the Borderlands! However, let this be known that you still must participate in games like normal players would, and are not allowed to know the difficult or rules of the games beforehand, otherwise it just becomes boring! Well, have a lovely time, citizens of the Borderlands, it's GAME START! "

Shiirabi and Mira both scoffed a little. Kuzu showed no reaction. Well, how about that one over there? The one in the botanical garden. Looks fancy to me." The nudist pointed in the direction of the game arena.

"...ok" Kuzu responded monotonously. "Oh come on, gimme me more energ-woah, collars, terrible way to go, from ny experience," Kyuma was definitely a bit too optimistic for everyone else's likings. Their phones made the usual dinging sound whenever a game was about to start. "Difficulty, 7♡"

"The... 7♡?" The usually calm and collected Mira looked she might have even started to panic a little. Well, just a little, of course.

"Rules: One person will be the wolf and the three others will be the sheep. When a sleep kicks eye contact with a wolf, they will become the new wolf, and a sheep cannot become the wolf for the next three seconds. After 15 minute, the collars around all the sheep will explode. Hide well, little sheep, and have fun! It's GAME START!"

"A... single survivor game?" Kuzu exclaimed.

"!?!?" The old man in the cloak made a shocked face.

"Dingdingdingding...ding! Our first wolf today is... Ginji Kyuma!" The giant Game TV indicated on who the survivor role had been passed on to, accompanied with its iconic little "yay!".

"Wait wait wait, everyone don't panic, I know how we can all survive this, we have to use the tools they gave us to dismantle our collars," Mira (not as calmly as before, I'd like to add) announced to the gang of a possible no death solution to the horrid and gut-wrenching game they had gotten themselves into.

"Tools? There... aren't any." Kuzu gestured to the empty table that would have been otherwise displayed with plenty of interesting little killing "tools" to help the players tear into each other and spice the game up a little.

Actually, it wasn't completely empty. Two little collar dismantlers- designed specifically by Mira herself to dismantle collars safely without needing to use a screwdriver or gamer of some kind- were sitting on it, arranged in a neat little row.

But the strangest thing is that there were bombs attached to it. And no, they weren't the kind that would blow the entire place up- it looked more like it only had the firepower to blow up the collar dismantle itself.

"So if we use the collar dismantlers, it explodes? So only two people can have their collars dismantled, and with the wolf surviving, so..." The "ever so optimistic" one of the four was starting to turn out not so optimistic after all.

"This... is our retribution. It's our punishment for our sins, the people we killed and the people whose blood was at spilled in this place, it's... a taste of our own medicine"

Oh, Shiirabi really was the complete opposite of Kyuma.

A moment of silence followed as everyone silently mourned for the unnamed one among them destined to die.

"... So only one of us has to die this time, ... let me go. This will probably be the most equal death I can die, for everyone else, after all." Kuzu, voice cracking, was the first to pipe up after the *rather* long moment of silence.

"No, you're not dying. You're not going anywhere. I'll go. I've always wanted to die by a hearts game anyway ♡" Mira, tearing up a little, immediately spoke to take the position of the unnamed hero among them from Kuzu.

"...You two can stop fighting about who's going to die among you. I'll go. I've always seen birth as a curse and existence as a prison anyway, (and yes that was a good place reference) with death being the only salvation. So let me attain my salvation, please, and let me go peacefully." Shiirabi let out a loud sigh and spoke his profound and not really popular opinion on the value of life. He had been cleverly hiding his face from view then, as if to somehow mask the tears streaming down his face.

Kyuma, watching this all, suddenly wished he had a mask and some onions to chop. When the others came to ask him what was happening, he could just say he had been chopping onions.

Not that they would realise with the mask on, anyway.

Yes.

He could just put on the mask and everything would be fine.

They'd still be sitting in their comfortable citizen headquarters, with Kuzu trying to read and Mira constantly annoying him, and Shiirabi just rambling on about his "cultural beliefs", as he would like to call it.

Yes.

Everything was still alright.

It was just a dream.

It was just a dream.

It was all... just...a dream...

But he had to come back to reality eventually.

He couldn't keep the mask on forever.

His friends needed him.

"Alright, everyone, I'll be the one to go, okay? I wanna die with dignity, and dying for you guys..." He couldn't even finish his sentence properly without his throat turning traitor to his decision to hide everything he was feeling.

"... What a twisted game." Mira uttered under her breath. Everyone instinctively took a few steps back. Mira wasn't like someone to show emotions so easily.

She would always hide it with a smile.

A beautiful smile.

But the level of emotion Mira was showing was unlike something amt of the other citizens had seen. She was raging, like dynamite thrown into a roaring flame. Her eyes glared like razor-sharp daggers that threatened to kill anyone who even so much as thought of glancing at her when she was at this critical moment.

This moment of doom. A time to mourn.

It should have been a happy day for them all.

But now it was only going to be a happy day for the one who died.

Because the rest could never live with what they had done now.

"I'll kill you...I'll fucking kill you!!" She suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs.

Then she suddenly stopped in her tracks and just started to bawl her eyes out.

She realised now.

She was the one designated to design many such games like these games.

These "sick, twisted" games.

It really was "a taste of her own medicine"

The other citizens didn't know what to do. They had never seen Mira both so angered and so vulnerable at the same time ever before.

Kuzu had tried to comfort Mira a bit by patting her on the shoulder, but all it did was make her cry even more, which startled Kuzu and he didn't know what to do anymore.

Then he suddenly started to cry too, and then Shiirabi and Kyuma soon followed, and they all just hugged each other together.

Because the other citizens had realised it too.

Not that she was the creator of similar games as this.

But that who the one "destined to die" was didn't matter.

After all, the one "destined to die" physical body would have died, but mentally and spiritually they would have transcended beyond the stars.

But the three survivors would have been plunged into an eternal darkness not even Satan himself could get them out of.

They would have survived physically, but they would have lost all right to enjoy their lives or even just take their next breath.

And all because of three wolves and a sheep.

Phew, that was pretty long, but I got it down! Let me know if you enjoyed it and what you think! Oh, and since I'm still learning on different ways to improve my writing, if you have any comments or suggestions on how to improve it, do lemme know! 😀

btw this was inspired by @miraofhearts2point0 's post about the citizens playing the 7♡ and since I wanted to be sad and I'm also deprived of fanfic just about the citizens being a happy little family so I wrote this! It's terrible, but hey, at least I'm trying, right?

Also watched lost and delirious the other day and still processing

TW

It's crazy how with a little bit of adhd and excelling grades you can convince everyone that Ur fine, even when Ur OD'ing.

I'm back!

And I brought back a friend-

His name is Alan, I found him!

He's our class pet now.

He's a shapeshifter. (Shifting ideas are welcomed!)

It was getting lonely while working on my project. He's a nice touch up for the blog, (though a working progress.)

Genuinely think I'm going through a rough depressive episode </3 not my favorite

Currently in the trenches as we speak with this but grandparent addition ….

Yay 😀

Reblog or like if you fell like shit

I am kinda frustrated over rp stuff, I know it's cringe to be but idc. I'm also struggling to find something to be positive about when my brain is in a negative space because of how I am. I also am super disappointed, I decided to close an SH RP yesterday because I felt that a month with no reply was really long.

It probably makes me sound like an asshole, but I'm not sure what to do? I hate that i have niche rp wants, lol. I'll just look for my usual generic stuff, since finding what I want usually leads to the same issues lol.

I also drew Jinx.

"Suguru, have you lost weight? Are you OK?"

"It's just summer stress. I'm fine."

(i am a new man as you can tell)

Okay so I've seen multiple posts about how Logan wanted to save Wade bc of Love and I really appreciate it but I have to be the bad guy and at least bring another option in the ring:

Logan is completely depressed for ages, haunted by voices of his family and closest friends he "let die". He hasn't slept well in ages and is an absolute alcoholic to be able to just get through the day. He has no friends or even a single soul who is simply friendly to him.

Logan wants to die.

But Logan can't die.

So of course Wade is the person to change all that and bring light and hope into his life and he definitely did want to save him for Wades family - bc he still believes he has nothing to go back for and if Wade dies he is back where he started and he just doesn't want that. Nobody wants that.

So he has two options, since both of them believe this is the end either way:

Let Wade die alone (with the risk he may not be able to stop it, despite the fact he didn't even reach it alone but let's be honest he hammered against the door before he could even see that)

OR

Die with him - bc he wants to swap places with him / he has to be the one who dies / he'd rather tried than do nothing or run away like always /

This is his only chance.

Seriously. He's been alive for so so long. He's through so much and he knows if it goes bad he HAS to live forever and most people know that's more like a curse than a blessing. He has the chance to end all that. To choose right then and there. And he made that decision.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ purelily angst

SYNOPSIS: Pure vanilla cookie is having trouble getting over his past— a person from his past in particular. Oh and he also bothers his friend about it while drunk (me core 🥀)

AUTHORS NOTE: HIIIIII so oml this lowkey sucks but purelily is so peak imma purelily shipper till I DIE 🥀🥀!! It doesn’t really have a story tbh, and I can do much better— but enjoy lolol. Also I don’t pay attention in ELA so my grammar is so ahh..

—————————☁︎TW☁︎—————————

Alcohol mentions, angst — not an 18+ fic :))

Its REALLY short 😔😔 mb gng— also unedited so yeah not my best work 💪

I took MAD inspo off sm1 from ao3 so yeah

this fic is a little weird bc theres no real plot, just me angst freestyling 😎

PURELILY REMINDS ME OF MY OLD CRUSH (who im still in love with) 🥀🥀

——————. ╰┈➤words: 1.1k ——————

It had been countless agonizing years since White Lilys tragic fate. He couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she was— gone.. technically. She’d toyed with magic he knew she shouldn’t have.. meddled with forces too dangerous for her to understand. The thought of her just slipping between his fingers brought on a weight he never would be able to carry, a burden he would never lift. He knew he would never move on. He knew it. Although it wasn’t very favorable, he thought of the white haired woman more than he’d like to admit to anyone. The golden light spilled from the blinds, illuminating his cream colored face. Everything reminded him of it— of her. Of the sweet melodies they would dance to in the sheer moonlight, the way she gently tended for her lilys, touch softer than silk in comparison to his firm, creamy graze. The times she was intelligent and strong, and the contrasting times when she was vulnerable. The times they’d dance or simply looked into each other’s eyes, deep, perplexing emotions that could never be committed to paper in mere words.

Pure Vanillas grip on the bottle loosened. The fizz of the substance inside swirled around, bringing out a certain emptiness that lingered in his heart. Would White Lily want this hopeless, weary life for him? Knowing her felt like having magic at the tips of his dull fingers. His somber gaze shifts up, up to a glass of lilies he had kept after all these years. A sign of death and a sign of rebirth, and most prominently a reminder of his old lover. They were slightly wilting, the petals tilted downwards and the color a bit dull; but nowhere near dead. His gaze softened a bit, the flowers reminded him of his lover. His lover he was grieving. Grieving an alive woman. A corrupted woman.

A few dozen minutes subsequently, he stands in front of his dear friend Hollyberrys door. He awkwardly knocked, the substance in his body making his movements rather— sluggish and lazy. It was almost an anachronism to visit his companion in this befuddled state, but she was rather tender and responsible and didn’t mind if her inebriated friend came to talk. He made out the sound of footsteps approaching, and the door expeditiously opened. Her face remained unsurprised when she saw him, as he’d been there in his state times before.

“Pure vanilla! How are you? Have you eaten today?” She spoke, a happy facade masking her true worry for him. He was becoming rather bibulous and he’d been visiting intoxicated more and more lately, and his booze intake was terrible for his health (quite ironic for hollyberry cookie but anyways). He analyzed her question and looked down at his emaciated frame. He in fact hadn’t eaten that day, nor much the previous days; but gave his friend a warm smile and a clumsy thumbs up.

“Yeaaah, Holly. I ate.” The words rolled roughly off of his tongue, and he hated how he was fibbing through his teeth. She looked heavily skeptical of his words, but had no intent to fight. She signaled for him to come in, and he stumbled in lazily. He seated himself down at her kitchen table, while she sat across from him. She poured him a glass of tea, in hopes to settle his unwell stomach after all of the intoxicant in his system.

“I miss her. I miss my lily..” he says somberly. She looks at him with gentle, pitiful eyes. He resisted the tempting urge to pule right infront of her, not wanting to show vulnerability to anyone, not even someone he could trust. His dear friend hesitated, not exactly knowing how to comfort the man so she just stared at him; waiting for him to continue speaking.

“I can’t.. put it into..” he hiccups briefly. “Words.. the apologies I had prepared.. in the shower.. in the mirror.. in bed...” He paused for a moment, unsure if he should spill the embarrassing truth to her. “I still write her letters, you know. Letters that are stained with meaningless tears— About how I’m sorry..” his voice gets a bit shaky. “H..how.. I didn’t stop her.. how I didn’t notice how she was being tormented.” his head falls into his hands and he sits in a melancholic silence, the air rich with pensive sadness. “All of the ‘what if’s’ won’t go away. So I force them out with..” an awkward silence seems to flood the small kitchen. “..with alcohol.” He rests his head fully down on the table, feeling the cool surface on his dough (heh.. see what I did there?). He couldn’t bring himself to meet eyes with his friend. His friend who was one of the bravest people he knew, watching him act like a crestfallen fool over a past lover. “I’m sorry you have to hear about this.. Holly.. It must be tiresome to listen to someone like me get so sad after a couple drinks.”

Hollyberry gives him a caring smile. “Hey.. Pick your head up, Pure Vanilla. You can always talk to me, and I’m always happy to listen.” She picks up his cup and pours him some more tea, before giving his shoulder a weak, comforting punch. He grins a bit, trying to make himself feel some form of artificial bliss— “Look at you, Hollyberry cookie. Always looking out for everyone.” Despite the caring words, his smile soon fades, his lips morphing into a thin line.“Sometimes.. I’m kept up at night.. and I guess.. I mumble hopeless whispers at the ceiling, yearning for her to come back.” He cringes at his own words. “Sometimes I wish she would answer my pleas..” His voice trailed off as he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. “Hey.. it’s gonna be okay..” he heard hollyberrys voice, in a soothing tone. It angered him and he brushes the hand off. “Okay..? Okay?!” The anger wore off within brief seconds. “It’s just.. I don’t know. I should go home and rest..” he forced a grin as he drunkenly stumbled for the door. “Thank you for having me, Holly.” She frowns, not thinking that their chat fully relived the burdens he carried against himself. She feels dissatisfied, but knew she couldn’t do anything about his sadness. Nothing like what White lily could’ve done. “Same time next week?” She half- bantered, as it was most likely going to become the unfortunate reality. Her remark made him let out a slight chuckle, and open the door. “You know it.” He said, somberly as he also knew that he would tipsily stop by in the near future. The door clicks behind him, leaving him alone in the cold night with his thoughts.

AYY LETS GO IM FINALLY DONE (at 3:35 am and too lazy to edit it)!! Anyways I need fic reqs so PLS give some guys 💔

So who’s ready to flee to Canada???

That winter in spring is demoralising to fucjing look at

I spent the past 2 weeks in a feverish depressed state I haven’t felt since before I started medication and over the past few days that has been cured by the following (in no particular order):

1) Tomadachi for the switch being announced

2) The Crane Wives tour that I got tickets for

3) Hilson content on my dash (I’m not even that serious about House MD)

4) Seeing my friends :)

5) Will Wood and the Tapeworms Tour

6) Getting into my dream grad school with a partial scholarship

7) Visibly Queer Androgynous Baddie called me hot

Thank u that is all :)

I remembered a funny conversation I had with someone, and thought it'd make for a fun redraw. It was during one of my darker chapters, and gave up on holding punches.

POV: you really want to release an album but you can barely even get out of bed and clean your room nonetheless write a fuckin song

Damn, here I thought that was just me. Always thought I had a great childhood, but then when I moved away and that began happening.

The two reactions I remember most were, when i shared a childhood storyi thought was normal and funny only for my one coworker to look at me dead in the eye and say, "Why are you always so depressing"

Or when we're all sitting outside on a hot day after the fire alarm went off in our office, and i started popping tar bubles. I looked to my supervisor and said if he remembered doing this as a kid and he looked at me kinda sad shook his head and said "no, no. I think that just might have been u" in the most sympathetic way.

i just want it to end...

i'm starting to hate the world… everything happening is stressing me out, i can hardly eat, hardly sleep, i just wanna be happy… but every time i start to get to the point where my happiness is found another horrible things happens… at this point it's hard to imagine a world where i'd feel safe to be me and not what i was told to be, and where i could love who i want to… i'm never gonna stop being me, and i'm never gonna stop loving the people i love… but at this point there's a not so insignificant chance that my existence gets snuffed out, my body cast aside and left to rot, next to everyone else who just wanted to be themselves and not what people told them they had to be... and i know it'll get better, but i'm doubting any of us currently alive today will see the time where it is better for us, and if we do there's gonna be a new generation of people who are oppressed, whether they bleed red or green or black, whether they have skin or exoskeleton or sheet metal, and whether they experience emotions like we do or not... there will always be another weak minority to train hate on, another group of sentient beings who only want to exist as they see themselves and to not be labeled as undesirables for it... until the end of earth there will always be these struggles, and even after earth there still may, idk what could be out there in the vastness of space, but what i do know is eventually this rock we all exist on will be vaporized along with the death of our solar system... i just wish everyone understood that we live in orbit of a ticking timebomb and hate is a waste, we will cease existing and none of it will matter anyway because we will all just become spacedust in the end, and when the universe collapses we won't even be that.

Rosie ft. nihilism.

i’m really beginning to feel lost when it comes to my feelings for this guy i work with. it truly feels like i am so small in his eyes, and i never know how to move forward. this is so out of the norm for me and it frustrates me that i feel powerless around him. i keep calling him pet names like, “babe, honey, sweetheart, pretty boy, etc.”, but i do that with literally everyone. i’m so bad at flirting and i really don’t think he would be receptive to that. he’s so charming, funny, goofy, and hot. but he’s talking to a different guy, and i feels like i’m too late. it all seems so pointless in the grand scheme of things. i don’t believe i’m his type, both physically and personally, and i don’t know him outside of work. but it’s terrifying to try for more. it makes me vulnerable and i feel worthless, disposable, unwanted.

this always happens to me though. i always catch feelings for some guy, and it literally has always ended the same; me hating myself for thinking it was a good idea and that i had even the slightest chance. it’s so hard to not think that i’m meant to be alone when rejection is so consistent. i’m running out of patience for my own self. i can’t keep letting myself put so much hope and emotion in finding that one person who will like/love me when so many people have turned the other way. when all of these things are stacked on top of me, it is so difficult to find a reason to keep trying and being open. i’ve been single for years already and it’s becoming easier to turn off this yearning to be with someone, until those moments like now. when someone draws your attention and you feel like they could be yours and this could be the chance. but 9.9 times out of 10 it isn’t. and the 1.1% chance that it could be, doesn't seem worth it anymore.

so, who knows what could happen between me and the guy honestly.  but my track record shows what is most likely to happen. it sucks, it really does, but that’s just my love life... lonely.

it truly is one of the saddest things in my life how true the phrase, “the nice guys always finish last” is. since i was 7 y/o i’ve had to give and extend my own self for my family and others to the point where there was nothing left of myself. it’s become so ingrained for me to plaster on a smile and work myself to the bone for others when i never get anything in return. now it feels so temporary for me to try and be self-sufficient in my emotional well-being. people pleasing is a curse. you try and you try and hope that things get better over time. “maybe this one person will actually care…”, “maybe this one job will treat me better…”, but they won’t. everything in this life is transactional. people will thank you for your labor at your workplace, be grateful for the friendship you give them, say that they love you for being a good partner to them. but all of that shit can disappear faster than when they said those things to you. you no longer are a person, you become the thing that is transactional. i’m never truly thanked, i don’t feel truly loved or valued. i feel disposable and replaceable for being a giver and giving my entire self for people. yet… i keep hoping that one day i can feel like i’m me.

never thought id be at the point in life where im only happy while high but the wait for a therapist is like a year so ig this is where we're at

I take perfect care of myself, i work, I'm in a good relationship, i eat well, and i work out. Yet still i have this awful feeling of dread every second of the day, it's unfair.

I swear to god smoking helps me reduce the amount i Sh, something about these cheeky cancer sticks make me go 😋😋

tw: sh

Fucking hell taking plasters off HURTS LIKE HELL. Not to mention how fucked up my arm is from the side effects they give me. Although I'm going out tomorrow so hopefully i can buy alternatives to plasters there!! No more experiencing hell from trying not to itch new cuts.