#maybe tomorrow if i dont do it today bc im not doing any schoolwork tomorrow since i havent had a proper day off in a week

[aro-ortega]

i got a haircut which means I need to draw vanya w my haircut. but i dont think i have time today

[theonlythingimfuckingisstupid]

when the chronic fatigue is fatiguing

[mecha-velli]

i’ve been trying desperately to access my emotions and i’m getting nowhere. i just had a pretty cool success and im happy about the el*ction last night. but also there is a huge huge part of me that’s fucking miserable. i haven’t showered in a week and im wearing dirty clothes to class. i cried a couple times today, like just tears nothing too intense, out of joy at the results last night. but i cant tap into the miserable part of myself. i am listening to dido and cutting myself in the hopes it’ll make me feel something but i’ve got nothing. a lot of people are being nice to me online, calling me a genius and all that bc of a success i had. so that’s all very interesting and nice. but im miserable, deep dark pained, and i don’t know why. i can’t tell whats going on. i think im lonely or something but im intentionally isolating myself. idk i dont get it. maybe i’m suicidal? but not like full-on like i was a few weeks ago. i don’t feel like it’s a good idea or anything. i think im triggered about suicide. but no clue, no clue, no clue what i’m really feeling. i dont have it. i cant get it. i listened to angel haze earlier, also nothing. if music can’t bring my emotions out what can? maybe i just need to find another musician. since angel haze didn’t do it and dido isnt doing it, i don’t think it’s heartbreak or suicidal anger. so what could it be? the nerve running down the socket of my hip, into the back of my knee, all the way to the arch of my foot, is pinched. that isn’t the emotion though. what the fuck is going on with me. is it just my meds? is it the on-again-off-again approach i keep taking with my stinkin seroquel? is that the issue? what am i feeling i feel so numb i dont feel real i feel nothing i can barely feel my skin when i cut it. it doesn’t even give me joy. there’s no pleasure or pain to be had in cutting. so what’s the point of any of it. i want to wanna yell. but there’s nothing in there. i am not even tired. i am nothing im a ghost there’s nothing inside of me. what am i supposed to do!! i can barely work because i’m so distracted by emotions that want to be heard, but as soon as i turn my mind toward them to listen, they shut down again. so what the fuck!! this is killing me it’s killing me it’s killing me

maybe im stressed about all the schoolwork i have to get done. i mean, that’s for sure. and im embarrassed about ever having feelings. and i feel like a freak. and i feel unloved. and i feel unlovable. and i feel scared that people are gonna hurt me. are those it? i saw the dude who gave me PTSD on tinder and immediately screenshotted all his pictures for some reason. it triggered me something fierce. what am i supposed to do about it. i wish he didn’t have that affect on me. i hope he isn’t a rapist, i hope he hasn’t done that to anyone else. i hope he’s grown. but he still looks like a creep to me. i guess he always will. 

if pain isnt the answer and music isnt the answer and work isnt the answer, what could the answer possibly be? i want to get stuff done tonight so that I don’t have to do everything tomorrow. I guess maybe I could catch up on readings instead of writing, that’s lower impact. also I’ve been sitting at my desk a lot lately and I think that’s what pinched my nerve. so maybe if I just lay down and read it’ll be ok. I’ll be ok. maybe. i dont know I really don’t know. I don’t want these feelings anymore but I don’t want the numbness. I want to live a life with people who love me and whom I love and we can learn things about each other and I don’t have to feel like a gargoyle all the time. create together. make things. be beautiful with each other. I need to write an essay on harlem renaissance writings but I also need to write about my experience as a transhomo and lmao. lmfao. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. i don’t want to share these pieces of myself when even I don’t feel like I understand them. I haven’t figured it out yet. I can’t explicate myself, or even just explain myself. i want to scream, i want to want to scream