それだけでいい

Is there a point?

If this was all, it'd be easy.


サムネ見ると怖い by アンナ＠自称料理上手 @Pixiv

Honestly.

I'm disappointed.

This is no lie.

Maybe it was stupid for me to have hoped?





In a way, I know.
And I thought.

I thought and I know.
And yet, all this thinking
has only led me to know
that I will never have an answer.

Wrapped around a string taut tight.

Somehow I've realized.
I've been playing myself.


弱ー院 by uni @Pixiv

I've figured myself out.

And at one point, I had control. Total, complete, control over myself.
Myself.

And like a name, it has stuck with me.
I have stuck to it.
But unlike a name,

I belong to myself,
and everybody uses me without a second thought.

Fight Club, I read it for my entertainment.
The slash is evident. The portrayal of homo-eroticism is obvious.
And yet, I find myself understanding the main character.
Wanting to be reborn.
Wanting to hit rock bottom.
Thinking I'm at the point.
Thinking I'm already there.

I'm so convinced.
I need somebody to tell me I'm wrong. That I'm nowhere near rock bottom.

That I'm the sea. I'm the ocean. I'm a huge ass mass of salty water,
that can't do anything, but hold guppy fish and human feces.

And then I think:

"Is there a point?"

And then I say:

"Why do you care?"

And then I feel:

Like dying. Today. Right now.

Like every other day.


いたい by 兎魚 蓮 @Pixiv

There's always this face.
The face I adore.
The one I wish I could litter with gentle kisses, and whisper soothingly, "It's alright. No more. Okay. Alright. No more. I promise."
But I can't reach that part. It's there. Behind my masks of:

"smart", "self-controlled", "emotionally stunted", "asexual", "mean",

and not necessarily in that order.
I think I'll call that face the "beautiful" one. The one I was called by, by her first, and then Daniel, and then Mrs. Lesik, my English teacher.

Even though they had never seen that face. Even though they're complete strangers to me now.

Suddenly, I realize, they saw the deepest, darkest side of me that even 空 hasn't seen.

"You're prettier than Vitch."

Yet, at the same time, I know she honestly believes that, but I don't know which mask she sees that makes her think that.

True, Vitch is outlandish. Her looks are of a gobbed up monster and boiled lard. She acts out on her fat ass, and sits down on the smallest seat just to have something shoved up her VJ.

And yet, the way she acts and the way she looks, makes me think of all of those ugly masks inside me. The ones I hide as she shows. The ones that remind me of her and how I used to be like her.

The one that knows I'm almost or just as "loveless" as she is.

And yet again, was I stupid to think that I could escape this feeling?

If all it took, was to extricate myself from 空、to go to a different school, to think that if I met new people, I'd be happy.

I'd be different.

Then I'm sure everyone would have found happiness.

But that's not true.

So, is there a point? For me to be here? To be so hopeful?
Is this all it takes to show me: "I'm a large ass mass of salty water,"
heavy and useless?
Because if it is, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. To be thankful or resentful.
Because I'm stuck here. Again.

A few scratches and bruises,
a few cuts and scars,
This is nothing.
This isn't rock bottom.

If this was all, it'd be easy.

海