too real to be true

2025 the year of supreme consciousness

~
[dear diary,]

i could yap for hours about everyone i've ever known and loved,

but who would care? this has 26 reads.
no one has ever really convinced me they care, and i can't get it out of my head that no one could ever love me enough.

i keep hoping for nothing but someone to love me, to be obsessed with me like i am with them,

i could yap for hours about how paranoid i am that no ones real, just lonely enough to not see everything wrong with me, to only see the love i have for them,

or how paranoid i am that everyones just using me for their own pleasure, for company, for anything really; i wish i knew all the reasons, but i only know the paranoia.

i only know myself, i only know i'm all i really have, i only know i'll never really know anyone else. that only happens in the deepest of love stories.

but i'm too stupid to give up hoping, so all i do is wish and hope and search for someone as real as myself.

[i know something has always been wrong with me.]

amelia,

joseph
sparkle
jess
lee
charly
coffee shop
ej
evie & arda
zach
neo

the existential crisis of wondering how many more there'll be, and how many i've forgotten the names of.

how many more i'll write about, and how many i'll never stop thinking about.

how many more i'll ghost, and how many more will wonder what they did wrong.

how much more guilt i can handle, and how much more sadness i can feel.

how much more incomprehensible i can write, and how much more i wish that someone would notice how i write.

~
even so, most of what i do write will go unread.
even if i upload it here.