date: 10/1/2026
subject: on the inside too
content
date: 10/1/2026
subject: the online/offline banshee
depression is such a hypocrytical betrayal to inflict upon oneself. i have my hands to create, so i cut them off - my voice to spread kindness; i slit my throat.
i'm just so tired and sad lately. some days i wish i could sleep forever, like this one. slip into my imagination and forget this useless thing i've warped into. of course, i know there's no reason to feel this way. i am loved by my family and some friends, some strangers. but i don't love myself and i make no moves to change. i make no moves to live, either. i am held by my mum from a thread, it's wrapped around her hand and busies it. i am such a nuisance and so clearly unwilling to be the eldest daughter.
not long ago, i genuinely believed there was no evil. until daddy got kicked out and i finally dared to venture outside. i'm glad i know, but knowing really puts you down. anyone could be a gossip, uncaring, oblivious, disingenuous, thoughtless, apathetic. i've noticed it in almost everyone i know, now i can't stand them. there are some good people who mean well, and i applaud them. somehow, they live happily, humbly and graciously.
i hate myself for not being evil, for knowing. i wish i could be like those who haven't experienced. i wish i could be like everyone else.