Hm... It seems I blog the most out of everyone, but I say the same things over and over again.
Today's something different. It's actually about life.
And it's actually about what I did. So no special encoding, no bold or italics.
Just words.
As you know from my previous blog, I don't go to school because I have issues, with waking up? Mmm maybe not, but issues anyway.
Today, it's because I don't have clean pants.
My mom's probably going to get mad, and try to help me find pants that I'll refuse to wear.
Also because I have a headache.
TBH, is this some kind of self-torture?
I hate myself enough to bring this hate out and trash myself like this?
Subtlely hurting me but obviously showing it? Flaunting this hate out like dried meat?
What kind of wickedness is this?
Making the world dissappear, making my existence dissappear, is a lot harder than just closing in on myself and drowning in my self-hatred.
Right?
I'm taking my chances away. I blame others for my hate, for my contempt, for my sloth, my gluttony, my lust, my sinful nature.
I'm running blindly like a madman, blindfolded and let out to the streets to find a gun or dagger. The world I see is cascaded with no other existence, but mine.
I don't feel like other people. I don't feel "emotions".
Because this hate is caused by my existence. I relate to other people solely to "live".
I doubt people understand what it's like to be a madman, trying to connect with the real world.
I'm not sane, not in anyway, not sane as a human at least.
I'm a parasite, like Anri from Durarara!!, but even she is out of the normal boundaries. She's stepped into the paranormal already.
I regress.
I wish... like a normal high school girl, for a boyfriend. Sharing this hateful existence will make it easier.