#i feel like maybe it doesnt come across bc i only ever vent in tags like this

[milchig-de]

Vent

Pairing: Character & Reader

Summary: You talk about your problems. Not relationship related.

Warnings: This is basically just vent writing. Very depression, existential dread

Notes: i imagined scaramouche as the character but you can put whoever you want there. ill tag it as scaramouche x reader bc of that but really it doesnt matter. its one am, im tired and sad. please dont be mean to me

_______________

You sit on a chair, a beverage in front of you. It is a warm day, although not warm enough to be unpleasant. Lifting the cup to your lips, you take a sip. You are unable to discern what you are drinking. You put your cup down again.

Someone approaches you. They sit down in front of you. You greet them and they greet back.

Silence.

What are you waiting for? Start a conversation.

"So... nice weather we have?"

The person across you doesn't respond. The look in their eyes tells you something is wrong. They seem to doubt you, ask you if that is really what you wanted to say. They ask if you truly do not have other questions to pose.

You unnecessarily clear your throat.

Another silence.

This person isn't here to make small talk. Think of a meaningful question.

...

Or don't.

Truly, if you have nothing important to say, why are you here?

"When do I ever have something important to say? My life bears little meaning in the greater scheme of things."

The person still sitting across from you answers.

"Perhaps that is so."

"Then... why should I say anything?"

"You can sit in silence. But isn't that boring?"

"That's precisely why I always say nonsense. It's better than bearing this agonizing silence."

They do not respond.

Speak from your heart.

"Sometimes I wonder... If none of what I say is of importance, what even is the substance of me? In other's eyes I am defined by what I do and say. So am I not essentially unimportant?"

"Do you consider yourself unimportant?"

"..."

"I guess I do. I don't particularly care about myself. I barely feel as though I even have a presence. I perceive and interact with the world I am in, but I do not take the time to truly spend time with myself."

"What does it leave you with?"

"A certain sense of... emptiness."

"What do you do about it? Do you just let it fester inside you like a some species of mold? Like some parasite?"

"I usually fill it with things that aren't real. Hell, I'm doing that right now. You aren't real, this place isn't even a place and this beverage isn't anything."

You point at your unidentifiable surroundings to stress your point.

"But when does it end? When do you lose your touch with reality? When does your true self begin? Do you even have one? Or has your entire existence been based on things that aren't there? On things so terribly out of reach that it's fucking pathetic you're still trying?"

...

"I know I'm weird. And I know this weirdness makes me unloveable. I don't know what to do about it. Everything I do only makes my life worse. Every day I wake up alive, I see no possible improvement. No one will come around to help me. That isn't how it works. I need to be proactive, but do I even deserve any help? I haven't done anything of importance and all I will ever reach is mediocrity. What's the point in trying if I will only come so far? "

...

"Maybe there is no point."

Both of you look to the scenery. It's quite beautiful. Perhaps it, too, is undeserving. But at least it is there. Even if the point is truly gone, you will still be here, for better or for worse.

"For worse, I'm sure."

Regardless of it all;

Tomorrow is another day.

[nightscaped-archive]

hm