YOU AREN'T LEAVING.

October 2, 2025, 10:30 AM:
IT'S MY BOYFRIEND'S BIRTHDAY~! EVERYONE PSYCHICALLY SEND HAPPY BIRTHDAY WISHES~! HE'S UNC NOW!!!!

October 5, 2025, 7:17 PM:
I went to Goodwill today, just to get some driving hours and maybe see if I could find something I liked. I surprisingly, actually found quite a few things I liked, such as a muu-muu that I will probably adopt until I'm 80 and a dress jacket cover-up thing that looked more like lingerie than anything else. There was also an aisle with nothing but ceramic angels and nativity scenes that I sat in for a while just because of how pretty it was.
It felt nice to go outside. I couldn't get my heart to stop beating, and I couldn't find anything less boring to do, so I went out. It's 300x better than starting arguments online.
END TIME: 7:22 PM

October 13, 2025, 4:30 PM:
Been a while. I haven't felt like doing anything.
Had a fight with my boyfriend, but we got over it pretty easily. The same night, I made the mistake of getting high with a man, who tried to get me to cheat with him and refused to leave my bed, and I was absolutely fucking terrified that I was going to get raped and I think something in my brain chemistry has changed now. I don't trust anyone. I only trust my boyfriend, and my best friend, and that is it. It feels like every other person I meet has it out for me and desperately wants to manipulate me.
There is more that I cannot bring myself to spew out.
For a while afterward, I cried and pretty much reverted to the mind of a 9-year-old and watched cartoons. I was scared to be alone with him.
END TIME: 4:36 PM

October 19, 2025, 4:01 AM:
I am nothing but overripe and rotten fruit staining the ground that thousands of men have warred and died upon.
I do not deserve to eat, clean, or sully the minds of those around me.
When I touch myself, it is as if heaven soars, but only for a moment, as it cries, for it is actually in hell.
I disguise myself in what other people do, and I latch onto their skin like a tick, one that forces their very flesh to reject other flesh like they should have rejected me.
I am but a lost lamb that knows nothing but the hidden shame of all she has unknowingly done.
I should have been buried when I was born, not because death greeted me, but because my soul was created unjustly.
My poetry is an egotistical cry for help that is within none's earshot.
I believe it may be time to give up, because the benefits from the effort required to keep going no longer outweigh the downsides.
I have no one that would truly miss me if I died. I have some that would cry for a while, then forget about me in a week. By truly miss, I mean: they would not feel this pain in their soul nor their heart; they would not lose a piece of themselves that creates a deep, dark, and desolate hole within their minds; their blood would not replace itself with a hollow yearning and their tears would not escape as this blood.
I yearn for a connection that digs so deep into the soul that it forges a biological need that is revered by society. I will never find this connection nor will society find its meaning.
There is no individual on Earth that I could cry for and to that would ask "can I see?" I will never be shown to someone because they wanted to see it, it will only be seen by other eyes because it was shoved in their face like a screen.
Existence is comparable to the sharp ache of a needle in one's sinus.
There are two breeds of people and I belong to neither of them.
For 2,143 days and counting, a war has waged inside my belly. For 886 days exactly, the war established a quiet equilibrium that slowly grew more and more tense until the treaty snapped in two like a twig.
My head spins, my stomach churns, my eyes fail, my knees lock up, my throat chokes down vomit, and for years I pretended it didn't.

October 25, 2025, 6:54 AM:
She cried;
Said "I'm sorry;"
And then bled out on a bathroom floor too clean for her.

October 27, 2025, 8:30 AM:
I lowered myself to a level I shouldn't and I am perfectly happy to stay there.

October 28, 2025, 6:30 AM:
The boyfriend is gone.
My brother (in everything but blood) is coming over to add boys on Snapchat and he's going to help me throw out the rotten ones since he somehow knows legitimately everyone in the county.

October 30, 2025, 11:41 AM:

The consequences of growth, pictured above.

BYE BYE.