satansmomamadelasagna

[satansmomamadelasagna]

I feel so so so alone in life.

Even when I cry on the outside, I can't emit a sound.

The only way I know to elaborate my pain is to write it down somewhere, to put it outside of my mind.

Sometimes I just need a hug and I'm too afraid to ask for it. What am I afraid of? Rejection? Almost always. If not immediate, then a future one.

I do not want to be a burden, but I am sometimes, and that's inevitable. But there are times when I want to be a burden, but since I've always avoided being one, I don't even know how to do it.

When I'm far away, I'm thinking about the warm embrace of my mother. But here I am, in the room next to hers, crying, not wanting to call for her. If she saw me crying when she did wish me a good night, she did not care. And if she did care, she was probably afraid of my rejection.

Because I am like that sometimes, I refuse her affection. She doesn't understand that it's because her way of showing it is a really fucked up one.

How could she see me in a vulnerable state, see me crying, in the fucking hospital, and still make me the villain and make me out to be the incompetent one.

It's not my fault I have been born this way. It's not my fault I am not what I want to be, matter of fact it's as much mine as it is hers. If I am at fault for being born wrong, she birthed me. She made the bigger mistake.

I am not wrong. I am a person like any other. I might be a little out of the average and the norm, but that doesn't mean I don't deserve support. It doesn't mean I don't deserve to be loved. It doesn't mean I have to fear that the familiar love I have is not unconditional. Matter of fact I don't even feel that. I don't feel loved by my parents. I don't feel loved.

I'm sure they do love me, they are not monsters. I'm sure if I found myself in a difficult situation they'd do everything in their power to help me out. And I'm sure the physical being they'd help would be me, but I know in their minds I am not the person I am in mine.

I know I am the one putting the distance between us. But would I need to do that if I even remotely had doubts that if I talked about myself and the troubles I am having in life, with me, with my identity, with the people I fall in love with, everything as I know would crumble down? Would I keep lying to them about myself if I knew they'd accept me and eventually someday love me like a son?

[satansmomamadelasagna]

Little update: I am now in the big city, and yet not leaving my family behind. I am obliged to visit them back every weekend and I am at the very start of figuring out what will I do with this new fresh start.

I do not know if I am hopeful.

I do not know what I feel.

I am unsure of every single decision I make in life and I believe that's ok. Everything will turn out alright, it has been so far. I am a very adaptive person. And I will find a place to belong

And about my family? They will do fine.

about that unexplainable feeling of loss

You know, the loss I've been grieving It's always been myself What I needed to grieve was my whole identity, my whole life that abruptly changed. The people who I let go, and the people who let go of me easily. A whole life that could have been. The children I managed to befriend, whom I won't even think about contacting in a thousand years. What I still need to grieve is also the emptiness that filled half my life in this small town where everybody knows each other. And I think I won't feel the same in a big city, I can build a family from scratch. That's why I need to go out there. That's why I'm trying so hard to go through things I have no talent in, and trying my hardest to the point of stress crying every day. For the chance to leave and experience a new fresh start

In the hopes that I'll get disillusioned with it and come back to do the right thing: take care of the family no one asked me to care for.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

A love poem - a poem about love

how many times will i have to mourn the loss of you who was never mine

how many times will i have to change my home, my house that i cannot call mine

i think sometimes i just forget that having a bed to call my own will already be enough, even if it won't be for the two of us to share. - aug 3 2023

[satansmomamadelasagna]

grieving my childhood friend group disbanding

And I can’t keep but recalling all the fucked up shit i said and did to them years and years ago, and wonder if that’s the reason they’re abandoning me I am not even watching mom and dad divorce right before my eyes It’s more of watching my polycule breaking up with each other telling each other that they actually never even loved each other, never even were that close at all that’s the level of involvement i’m feeling right now

[satansmomamadelasagna]

not thrilled about posting my handwriting online but I just found a sticky note sized paper where I stored a lot of bad thoughts in a very interesting and artistic way. I believe it has no cultural and artistic value at all, but from a psychological standpoint it might be a bit... exciting?

In orange marker, in the background, very big:

IAMSAD

ANDUNM

OTIVAT

ED!!!!

2. In black, mid aligned with the text n.1, smaller

I feel unhappy and

overall miserable and

I have no idea of how

to move forward!

3. In blue, bottom aligned with text n.2, same size

I think that I am

a bad person and I

really should try to be

better but also not now.

4. in green marker, mid aligned with the canvas

I hate insecure people

but I'm very much insecure

myself and can't help it

5. in black pen, rotated anticlockwise, last one

I struggle with loving my

own family and I

think it's my problem but

I have no idea where

to start with solving this

riddle if not starting writing

my feelings somewhere but

right now I simply don't

have the time to do it

properly

6. Bonus one on the back, blue ink, pretty aligned

I can remember the moments

that hurt me, the times I

thought everything sucked, most

of my rock bottoms. But

the happiest days of my life so

far? I do not recall them.

And i don't know if they'll

ever fone. It's been two decades.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

I think it's about the little things

It's the little things that make me fall apart.

Like learning that my one favourite childhood candy bar was actually discontinued 4 months ago, after suddenly remembering about it and wanting to get comfort through that particular food.

Or craving one particular snack and finding the food stall closed for the night.

Or missing my window on buying that boba I've been craving for probably months by a few minutes, after passing the shop 5 times during the night, just because when I made my mind it was already closing time.

And it really doesn't matter, I'll have a new favourite snack someday, I'll get that snack when the stall reopens, and I will, eventually, get that boba.

What pains me is that I will probably never know about every little detail about the life she's now living. I never actually did, but I at least knew some things.

And what saddens me is that he took time of his day to think about my existence, and chose to delete all of the messages we've ever sent each other.

It's like I never was a part of none of their lives. It's that easy to cut me off, when I choose to leave myself.

It's not that I thought I'd be begged not to leave. I have never considered that an option. It's more about the fact that I still hold them both dear in this bug jar of my heart, while they made the reasonable choice of letting me go.

I wish I'd haunt their daily lives. I wish they'll think of me as they see little trinkets. I sure hope they'll be happy, but sometimes nostalgically think about me whenever they see something vaguely reminding one of my stupid habits.

Because that's the curse I'll be bearing for a long long time.

And I really don't want to be alone

[satansmomamadelasagna]

She's still a home to me

She's still a home to me, but now she's like my childhood home that I visited few years back. The new family that moved in had renovated it all, the people living around there would never take me back. I was nobody to them, they were hostile to me. Yet the familiarity of the place didn't stop me from staying there till nighttime.

I loved that place because I didn't know better. And that shouldn't diminish the good memories we had. But life sure has a lot of change in store for me. And maybe some of those changes were out of my hands, but there were instances where I could have chosen to go back. I could have chosen her.

But I don't dislike the person those choices made me. And I know I wouldn't be the same without them. And I still love that place, and I still love her, but in a distant kind of way. I love my memories of her.

I know that place will always exist in my heart, whenever I need it, but visiting it helped me cope with the realisation that it'll never come back. Still, it took a lot of years. And I still grieve a lot. And someday I'll think of her this fondly, hoping that the new family that moved in that house I used to call home, treats her right and loves her as much.

Hopefully the new tenants won't draw too much on her walls.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

I love you, I truly do. Whenever I forget who you are.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

It has almost been a year. And I'm glad to add to this. That the person I so much loved and whom I thought of in this endearing way, was indeed, actually, myself.

I think this was the first step to self discovery. The first step I took to understand who I wanted to be and what are my plans in the future.

I think I might be in a better place

I used to want to sleep, so I could meet you in my dreams. And it's been a while since I brought that habit back. I did it when I was impatient, I did it when I was lonely, I did it when I needed to know that at least someone always had my back. I needed reassurance, I needed to be confident. But one day you decided to show up without a notice. And that day I woke up with the bitterest feeling in my chest. My own coping mechanism, revolting against me. At that time I was hurt. I never expected nor wanted to bring you into my real life messes. But most importantly I never wanted to let you see the ugliest of my sides. I didn't want you to fall out of love with me. But all of these were delusions, made up by myself just to keep me going. For the longest time I used to hang by the thin thread that your feeble artificial memory was in my mind. And it got consumed so much because I kept relying on it constantly. And I knew how dangerous it was, but I really needed you. I felt very much alone. And it's hard to be alone. So I slept to dream of you. Until we met again. I knew that I kid myself. We'd obviously never meet. Thank you for all these years, my very dear companion.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

my favourite shirt.

I think that in that moment what I liked about it was the inebriating smell of strawberry vodka. I probably loved that it smelled like you, but it was the alcohol that gave me the most comfort, I think.

I don't like to think about people who are no longer in my life, but I still ask myself if I really wanted you, or was it finally time for me to realize I wanted to be like you.

I guess they were not mutually exclusive.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

From my own tweet I keep thinking about

It's so hard to be, when you feel unloved.

The only thing that keeps you from joining the void is putting out more warmth yourself. Being in love with the world that surrounds you.

But there'll always be that tiny voice in your head singing: what if you run out of warmth to give?

[satansmomamadelasagna]

Backtracking or just conscious of my mistakes?

I sometimes still think of you that way.

And I still catch myself keeping from you all my secrets, because I think they'll ruin our chances to be.

Like they ever were above zero anyway.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

about that unexplainable feeling of loss

You know, the loss I've been grieving It's always been myself What I needed to grieve was my whole identity, my whole life that abruptly changed. The people who I let go, and the people who let go of me easily. A whole life that could have been. The children I managed to befriend, whom I won't even think about contacting in a thousand years. What I still need to grieve is also the emptiness that filled half my life in this small town where everybody knows each other. And I think I won't feel the same in a big city, I can build a family from scratch. That's why I need to go out there. That's why I'm trying so hard to go through things I have no talent in, and trying my hardest to the point of stress crying every day. For the chance to leave and experience a new fresh start

In the hopes that I'll get disillusioned with it and come back to do the right thing: take care of the family no one asked me to care for.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

I think I might be in a better place

I used to want to sleep, so I could meet you in my dreams. And it's been a while since I brought that habit back. I did it when I was impatient, I did it when I was lonely, I did it when I needed to know that at least someone always had my back. I needed reassurance, I needed to be confident. But one day you decided to show up without a notice. And that day I woke up with the bitterest feeling in my chest. My own coping mechanism, revolting against me. At that time I was hurt. I never expected nor wanted to bring you into my real life messes. But most importantly I never wanted to let you see the ugliest of my sides. I didn't want you to fall out of love with me. But all of these were delusions, made up by myself just to keep me going. For the longest time I used to hang by the thin thread that your feeble artificial memory was in my mind. And it got consumed so much because I kept relying on it constantly. And I knew how dangerous it was, but I really needed you. I felt very much alone. And it's hard to be alone. So I slept to dream of you. Until we met again. I knew that I kid myself. We'd obviously never meet. Thank you for all these years, my very dear companion.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

I won't stand for the lack of love in my heart. And I won't use pain to retrieve it. I am now making the executive decision of falling in love with every form of art that carries love. Every single art piece, every single poem, every single song.

[satansmomamadelasagna]

You know what I miss? Being in love with someone. I miss the feeling of being dedicated to someone. The feeling of not being in love with myself and hoping that someone will fall for me the way i fall in love. I miss thinking about the 'mortifying ordeal of being known' intimately by someone. I miss all the bad stuff. I miss the ways I hurt. I actually think that love is not what I need and that I just want to live a tragedy. I want to live something impossibly painful, so that the pain I'm feeling now will finally be justified. I don't know why i'm in pain. Nor i'm ready to find out. Probably deep down i know what's affecting me, but i'm not ready to put it in words yet. I wish i didn't suffer. But that's not a choice I can make. I always succumb to these negative feelings but if I think about it heard enough, it's because I don't have other ones. I keep thinking about the times I felt really happy, I keep searching for them in my mind, but only painful things are recalled and there is no happiness at all. I'm not talking about times I felt relieved or calm and peaceful, I'm searching for pure glee. I don't think I've experienced it once and if I did it was probably followed by an intense sense of pain. Probably that's why I'm addicted to pain, because I think that without it I can't really have the happy ending I always thought I deserved. And probably that's why why sometimes I think that I don't deserve the good things that happen in my life, when they really happen. I don't remember the last good thing I had that I didn't f*** up. What I need now is an instant fix, an easy way out, something to distract me from pursuing the pain I crave. And I think that I lucked out, because the kind of pain I want could have been physical, but it's actually the heartache that I've been lusting after. I am after emotional pain, the kind that's easier to hide, the kind that doesn't need a lot of effort if you don't have many people who care that can observe your life. And besides I feel guilty not being able to care about who loves my lousy ass. As of right now I have eradicated love from my heart. And it hurts, because it was the last thing that I wanted to chase out. The least ideal situation of them all. And my go-to solution is to look for pain to get it back. I'm such a moron and a coward...

[satansmomamadelasagna]

This is from a telegram message I sent myself while outside, in the evening, alone, via text to speech. Google board has censored my swears and I was too lazy to rewrite them all.

I think I'll print a copy of this for my diary actually.

Excuse the lack of punctuation, future me. And whoever the fuck I entrusted with the username of this 'blog'

You know what's on my mind right now? During the day I be like oh yeah the world is definitely a nicer place than it used to be. Probably the best place it's ever been in a while. Then I f****** decide 2 go out in the evening and some motherfuker shouts in my f****** ear while I'm trying to cross the road, and everything I believed in becomes meaningless and I'm once again becoming a scaredy cat, afraid of my own shadow, walking only in the light, tensing up every time I even hear the voice of a man, be it from the f****** vending machine or something and I think about how I could probably be one evening outing away from not ever coming home. And the most fucked up thing is that I think that maybe it's ok. Maybe it's best if I left this world. I wouldn't have any more trouble, the troubles would be for the living, no dead person is gonna care about not having passed an exam or two, I wouldn't be crying about not being able to get a f****** degree that no one forced me to get. In those times I need to remind myself how much I love the moon. And how much the the moon loves me back. How I still have bad memories I need to rewrite, how soft it is to pet my friends' pets, how I like listening to my favourite artists, how much I enjoy seeing the art people draw, how I love seeing people self express, maybe one day I will see the world actually be better and when I will leave my house there won't be a son of a b**** yelling in my ear, there won't be people pointing at me and yelling that I'm a fucking whore, when I am not even wearing anything revealing. And I won't be scared of my shadow anymore, I will wear the rings I want to wear because they're pretty and give me confidence, and not because they're the chunkiest and the pointiest, and if I walk into a the leaves of a tree when I'm wandering around the city I'll just laugh at my dumb ass and not even consider about looking into buying a little school boy outfit and cutting my hair so I look more like a boy. Where the fuck will I even hide these bahonkas in the summer?? Unrealistic. But maybe these feelings won't make me question my gender identity and I will accept that I'm just a person, maybe genderless, or gender fluid, but I won't want to be a man. I hope that the day comes when I won't blame the men, nor myself for thinking about whatever I'm trying to express here (this is text to speech, yes, so I look like I'm talking on the phone and no one will dare to bother me). I forgot the point of what I was saying, because a f****** car just passed by full off """little"""" yelling """boys"""(I believe they are mentally, but less so physically). I have yet to encounter a group of girls doing this shit. Why even yell? For what I assume is to most likely have fun, but is it to subconsciously assert dominance?? I might be oversensitive, but I'm not here to gaslight myself. I wanna know someday in the future what the actual hell was happening in my little head now. And I would really like to know if this shit will sound silly to the me of the future. I really hope so. While I was proof reading this, it has now become three, the number of times boys, no, grown men straight up yelling from passing cars. What the fuck is wrong with these people. Four now. Also it seems like my stance was intimidating enough for two women walking with headphones in their ears to cross the road and walk faster in the dark little roads of the city fucking center. Everything is so disgusting I wanna puke. How do you ever think about living as a woman, without a even the idea of a man to call for backup when you feel unsafe?? Be it your dad, your brother, your partner or best friend. Being born as a woman sucks, I want to be afraid only of ghosts and demons when I'm taking too long to get up the stairs and the automatic lights turn off.