i have endured. [the story of nobody at all]

ill-timed mania.

not only do i not belong in this world but i do not even seem to belong in this time.

everything that is happening with me is so devastating, unbelievably taxing on my end, but it gets lost in this time.

so much is happening. everybody is going through something, justifiably so. amidst a global pandemic, i would not anticipate the mass population to be feeling any less than content today, tomorrow and the next day.

COVID-19 really has fucked up quite a bit, even for me. i was living elsewhere, doing better in my independence, free to think and do as i please without the constant fear of spectators eyes burning through me.

i was in school too for awhile, but my mentality forced me to leave that promptly before this pandemic even began. i cant blame COVID for that.

nevertheless, i am sitting here in the same space every day, almost every minute, with no change. no progress, or regression even. just sitting still, forced to listen to all that haunts me.

it gets into my mind, so very deeply. i am immensely suicidal again, saying that as though i never wasn't. i do not want to be alive at all, for i hate my entire being and existence. i do not feel as though i have much of anything to live for.

i know where my worth is in this world. it is not anywhere, because i am without worth. simply, truly. something like that was very hard for me to process, understand and come to terms with, but i have. i think i have.

clearly i have not, as i am still typing away here, still alive, still feeling this way. still alone. clearly i have not learned a thing, or else i would have been smart and taken myself out of the equation so very long ago.

i planned it thoroughly, so deeply. the cold of the winter was keeping me from doing it, for i planned on hanging myself and i am quite vulnerable to the cold. i didn't want my final moments to be outright miserable if they didn't have to be.

i would like to die on a sunny day, imitating that of the days i spent with my love. ideally i would like to feel that exact same way, filled with love and safety, before i go.

i know that i cannot have this. realistically when i die it will be quiet. it will be painful, and even still, cold. regardless of how bright that sun shines upon me, i will be cold.

inside and out.

i wish time would stop for a moment. that, or i wish it would give me some advantage, some break. i need some kind of leverage to keep me afloat. it is becoming increasingly more difficult to get out of bed, to try and be a human being.

i don't feel like one. i feel like so much less. so, so much less. as though i do not exist at all.