#oh shit made a typo in one of the tags. should be 'cooking too' not to w only one o

[dont-be-late-to-the-dance]

yall I was JOKING about how this would fix me but like

HE ACTUALLY FUCKING FIXED ME.

that man Fixed Me for real. this actually isn't a joke

I WENT BACK TO MY CHILDHOOD FRIENDS AU FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE MY EFFIN LIFE SHOW AND DIDN'T WANT TO DIE AT ALL!! DIDN'T CRY EITHER‼️ NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT!!!!!

I EVEN WROTE THREE (3) PARAGRAPHS WITHOUT GETTING SAD!!!!!!! LOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!

[littlelovelymemes]

✰  —  —  —  EVEN MORE POPULAR TEXT POSTS STARTERS

‘  let me just make one thing clear... i have no clue what’s going on, ever, at any moment, at any point in time. who knows what’s going on? not me. not ever.  ’ ‘  i would just like to publicly announce that i have no idea what i am doing  ’ ‘  we came from the same star and we will come together again in the end  ’ ‘  i have a ‘why am i like this’ moment at least five times a day  ’ ‘  did i need it? no. did i buy it? yes.  ’ ‘  the most dangerous game is resting your eyes after you turned off the alarm clock in the morning  ’ ‘  petition for stars in the day time please???  ’ ‘  i love it when i wake up and stretch and something cracks. makes me feel like a glo-stick  ’ ‘  drop whatever you’re doing right now and climb a tree  ’ ‘  the most fucked up part of adult life is how you can just decide to do things  ’ ‘  i’m a person who wants to do lots of things trapped inside a body that wants to SLEEP at all times  ’ ‘  i’m so tired but i’ll probably be awake until 3 am for no reason  ’ ‘  time to kick my own ass. bitch had it coming for too long  ’ ‘  honestly ‘thanks i hate it’ is one of the funniest phrases in the english language  ’ ‘  do you ever wonder how many people have loved you and never told you?  ’ ‘  the internets one true talent is making me sick of things i’ve never seen or read or heard  ’ ‘  i’m permanently emotionally damaged but it’s chill, i’m chill  ’ ‘  all cracker barrels are dimensionally linked. you could walk into a cracker barrel in georgia and walk out of one in arkansas and feel nothing  ’ ‘  ‘you look different with makeup’????? you think i’m buying shit for hundreds of dollars to just keep looking like my ugly self ... ok  ’ ‘  why did the fray go off so hard in ‘how to save a life’?  ’ ‘  anyone else bummed they have 2 sleep alone tonight and uh not in some1s arms  ’ ‘  not to be too controversial but i like it when people are nice   ’ ‘  the sun has no business tapping out at the tender hour of 5pm bitch i have depression  ’ ‘  i forgot how fucking weird november is theres no afternoon its just night after 2pm  ’ ‘  what time do you need me? i am unavailable whenever that time is  ’ ‘  look i may have made a few typos and committed a few murders but nobody’s perfect okay  ’ ‘  i guess at this point i should just consider dating myself  ’ ‘  i’m aiming for the “she’s a badass and cute as hell but i wouldn’t touch her without asking” look  ’ ‘  haha if you’re bored you could kiss me idk just sayin  ’ ‘  i see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. why is that.  ’ ‘  80s music wont solve all my life’s problems but it certainly distracts me from them  ’ ‘  i cant believe what walkie talkies are called  ’ ‘  some people think life is like a rollercoaster but my life is more like one of those rides that spin really fast so you’re pinned to the wall and can’t do anything about it  ’ ‘  hey girl do you want to make a fragile human connection in the vast and unfeeling infinity of a chaotic universe  ’ ‘  all these fuckboys but who is the fuckfather  ’ ‘  i love drunk me but i don’t trust her  ’ ‘  do you have those people that you’d go anywhere with unconditionally, like they could say “lets go check out that dumpster” and you’d be like “im in”  ’ ‘  nah sorry i cant go out tonight, i have plans to spiral into uncontrollable anxiety starting in the early evening and ending at roughly 3 am  ’ ‘  me: queen of having had enough  ’ ‘  she needs a hug (i’m she)  ’ ‘  is it acceptable to start an essay with “listen here you little shit”? 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kiss me on the lips dude  ’ ‘  too many songs about love. not enough songs about sword fights  ’ ‘  don’t talk to me or my 78 insecurities ever again  ’ ‘  i just did a tarot reading... it said ur a bitch  ’ ‘  a good substitute for love and fulfillment? a crunchwrap supreme from taco bell  ’ ‘  i fucked up? idk what you’re referring to but probably  ’ ‘  *in a high-pitched mocking voice* "are you okay?" what the fuck.  ’ ‘  how do u just..... not believe in aliens  ’ ‘  a coffee pot can be a coffee mug if you just don’t fucking care  ’ ‘  “you’re up early!” jokes on you i didn’t sleep at all and am in between energized and dying  ’ ‘  dont wanna sound like a slut but i really need a hug right now  ’ ‘  casual fan? no sorry i only know how to invest my whole livelihood into something and spend every waking moment thinking about said thing  ’ ‘  i have a dozen hearts swirling around my head irl like that isnt a filter its permanent  ’ ‘  i worry about you even when you say you’re fine  ’ ‘  i will never hurt you. i will always stick by your side. i will always try to make you smile  ’ ‘  true love: having to hold back your adorable, violent girlfriend to keep her from straight up murdering a dude  ’ ‘  cute date idea: be nice to me  ’ ‘  im so jealous of people who know what they want to do with their future i dont even know what t.v show to watch next  ’ ‘  me? clingy? yes please don’t leave me  ’ ‘  hey….,.,.. no offense but,,. i want someone to love and cherish me  ’ ‘  i need someone to lay in bed with me for hours  ’ ‘  dark hannah montana..... show me the worst of both worlds  ’ ‘  someone has to say it: come on eileen is a fucking banger like that shit snaps,, a bop for the century  ’ ‘  roses are red, i’m going to bed  ’ ‘  bless netflix for creating the skip intro button honestly  ’ ‘  they call me… 7 Knives. because that’s how many knives it takes me to cook things because i keep puttin em in the fuckin sink without thinking about it  ’ ‘  i wanna burry my face in someone’s chest right now til i fall asleep and wake up 4 hours later just to find i’m still in their arms  ’ ‘  the internet has ruined me honestly i’m numb to everything. it could be the end of the world and i’d be like “tag urself i’m the acid rain”  ’ ‘  lately i have been…….dying to be in love…,..and that’s the mood sadly  ’ ‘  not to be ns fw but i’d cry if someone kissed me on the cheek  ’ ‘  sexting? nah. i’m into spexting. spooky texting. ever seen a ghost? hmu.  ’ ‘  not to sound cocky as shit but i’m a fucking good person with a big heart and i deserve a lot more than the shitty hand life has dealt me this far  ’ ‘  i say i love you a lot because i do  ’ ‘  i’m sorry. i can’t come to the phone right now? why? oh. cause i hate talking on the phone please text me instead.  ’ ‘  low on self esteem, so u run on mac & cheese  ’ ‘  who’s gonna come lay with me in bed and let me wrap my legs and arms around u like a small bear  ’ ‘  youre a coward if youre not on the way to my house right now to give me a kiss  ’ ‘  my personality is like 90% the song i’m currently listening to  ’ ‘  the first step to any murder is to have fun and be yourself  ’ ‘  no offense @ life but can i have a breath.. a break... some slack...  ’ ‘  the best kind of alcohol is a lot  ’ ‘  911 i hate to be “that guy” but i glued myself to the ceiling again  ’ ‘  having “feelings” is ruining my reputation of being a heartless bitch  ’

[burnedlegate]

Chapter I - Catching Fire

um, ok, so here it goes? the first chapter of my Finn/Daniel fanfic. i want to eventually post this on AO3, so idk if I’ll add another chapters here, but let’s say this is.... a trial?? first of all, i have no idea how tags on AO3 work and tbh they scare me, also, as i said in the previous post, i’m not a native english speaker and i often mix up the tenses and stuff (also the quotation marks are wrong, i mean, not english but czech, but i didn’t think i was gonna publish this when i was writing it so... yeah. and i’m not editing that shit now),

so.. that’s a thing. i’ll be happy for any kind of feedback, especially if it’d about some typos or stuff like that! now i’ll keep trying to gather courage to put this on AO3 :’D

People say that everyone has a home somewhere, waiting for them. The courier‘s oldest brother used to say that, but the way he spoke about home – for him, it was a concept to be abandoned, useless, futile. Veronica used to say that when she talked about the Brotherhood of Steel and her ideas about its inovations, and she said it even after what she was evicted from the order and refused to step inside the bunker. Ulysses, whose home was irretrievably destroyed, said this to her, and he stayed true to his words, watching over the land and its horrors to this very moment.

Her father used to say that, and when he said that, he spoke about their mountain cabin in the Mahagony Mountains in Utah.

That cabin was irretrievably lost now, incinerated into ash and burned carbon. One could say home isn’t a place, but a person; but her father was gone as well, crucified by the Caesar’s Legion.

The courier, Finley Jäger, didn’t have a home. She thought California could become her home, but the forced patriotism couldn’t replace the feeling of safety and certainty. She thought Nevada could become her new home, but that very thought forced her to flee the country to… this place.

The courier didn’t have a home. She used to have a mountain cabin, and she used to have a father. Now she stood in the Zion Canyon, and she realized that she’ll never be closer to that memory than now.

This feeling, this moment – you’ll never have it again.

„Hey, Finley,“ Jed’s voice interrupted her. When she turned to face him, the caravaneer working for the Happy Trails Company spoke again: „I was sayin‘ that in case the New Canaanites won‘t be able to get us back home, you’ll step in with your Pip-Boy and your maps. Since Ricky run away, you’re our only option. We can count on you, right?“

Finley, known as Finn among friends, raised her thumb up.

„I’ll take that as a yes,“ Jed squinted, and the courier responded: „Yeah. Sorry, was savoring the moment here.“

„It sure is beautiful here,“ Stella said. With that, Finn finally stepped away from the ledge.

Jed sighed loudly. „Enough lollygagging! Get moving and keep an eye out for tribals!“

„Sir, yes, sir,“ Finn answered avidly and the caravan started moving again with two mercenaries in front, two behind them, Jed in the middle and her and Stella right behind him. Stella adjusted the rifle on her back and interjected: „Sorry to bother you with reality, ol' Jed. Who cares if we can't get back out the way we come? That's not a problem.“

„It’s simply the way it is,“ Jed answered, visibly trying not to sigh again, and slightly sped up to avoid more remarks of his companion. Stella obviously didn’t miss it as she muttered under her breath: „Heard you the fifteenth time, Stella. What's it matter if we're trapped here? Everything will be just fine.“

„What’s this about?“ Finn asked, surprised by Stella’s anxiety.

„Well, if you were listening, my dear courier, you’d have heard me expressing my deep concerns over us getting home, because we sure as hell ain’t going back the same way,“ Stella said, and the courier just shook her head: „Hey, we’re cool, I got my maps and everything!“

„Just like you got your big backpack and everything?“

The courier puckered her lips: „You just won’t let that go, will you.“

„Well, considering the fact that you stated that you’ve been here, I found it really curious that you thought you could bring a whole damn armoire with you,“ Stella answered.

Before the courier could answer anything, Jed suddenly stopped dead on his tracks, looking alerted – both of the women almost bumped into him.

„What’s up, Jed?“ Stella asked with an obvious hint of the everpresent anger in her voice; but the caravaneer put finger to his lips, shushing her instantly. Then he said very, very quietly: „Hold on, now... could swear I heard something up ahead.“

In that very moment, the mercenary in front of them fell to the ground. Dead.

„Fuck,“ Finn breathed out as the brain of father of tree and rancher from California of the name Timothy Wells splattered on the ground. „Fuck,“ she breathed out again when she was crawling for cover behind a boulder with Stella following her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

„Goddammit, ambush! Cover, people! Watch yourselves!“ Jed screamed and did the same, hiding behind a boulder close to her. Finn pulled out her weathered 10mm pistol, which she truly didn’t expect to pull out so soon, and aimed at one of the ambushers placed on the cliff above them. But the paint on his face, his braids, his weapon-

„Holy hell, it's the White Legs! What are they doing this far south?“ Jed screamed to confirm her worries, and Finn breathed in, and out, because-

It seemed – it seemed her worst worries came true. She came all this way for nothing. She came to herself just in the moment to crouch to the ground to evade a flying tomahawk, which, luckily, pushed her back to reality. There’ll be time for mourning later.

If there’ll be a later.

„Goddammit, never should joined this assbackwards caravan,“ Stella cursed under her breath and fired a few shots from her laser rifle. Finn fired a few shots at the White Legs on their terrain level, because she had a scant view on the White Legs above them in her current position. She looked around and found out that most of the mercenaries, which the company hired, were dead.  

„We’re sitting ducks here!“ Stella screamed. „We need to get out of here, fast!“

„There’s no way out of here!“ Jed screamed back. Finn looked down from the cliff to the river which flew through the canyon. It’d be… quite a fall. But they couldn’t push through the tribals. And they couldn’t go back. They were, very effectively, trapped – and they were losing.

„Enough of this!“ Stella suddenly screamed and stood up. „Here I come! I was a sheriff once, goddamn it!“

With that, she charged at the White Legs.

„Stella!... Oh no! Don't you die on me, woman, you hear?“

Finn shot at another tribal, killing her. At least she thought she did. It seemed like whenever they killed one, another one popped up from nowhere. They had to get out of here.

„Jed! We need to go!“

„There’s nowhere to go!“

„We can just jump down-“

„Are you out of your mind?!“

„We can’t fight through them!“

Suddenly, a blast threw both of them a few feets back. The only thing Finn heard for a while was an annoying humming noise, and then it was humming coming from Jed’s pistol who shot down a tribal woman coming at them with a shishkebab. A shishkebab. Where the hell did they get these weapons?

Something pulled her up to her feet – Jed – and gave her an intense look, and screamed, but Finn had problems comprehending what he was trying to say.

„On your feet! Keep fighting! Come on, I got ya…“

He tried to move them both behind another cover. But it was too late. It was always too late.

***

The young missionary, Daniel Young looked down from a cliff to look at the Narrows and it inhabitants, currently waking up to a new day. The Sorrows got up and went to sleep with the Sun; the Sun’s been up for two good hours and the tribals were cooking fish on the fire, getting ready for scouting the area, waiting for the morning service.

He was walking around the camp for two good hours. When he woke up after five in the morning, he managed to calm himself down by this perambulation (perambulations) around the Narrows, but it never really helped. And it surely didn’t help him rest.

It’s been a long time since Daniel had a good night sleep. Sleep used to be an escape for him, from this world to the world of what could have been; now it’s become an obligatory route to the world of what happened, what he saw, what he had to see, and his mind was forcing him to go through these moments again and again and again. Sleep was, of course, necessary for survival, but Daniel Young wasn’t its greatest fan, so to say.

Now, he’d usually go over his supplies, but honestly, there wasn’t much to go over. It’s been a long time since he’d seen some proper supplies, and the situation wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t have the time to go look for them himself, and the Sorrows couldn’t go either, considering most of the tourist spots taboo. And then there was always Joshua, telling him that they don’t really need the supplies. That there’s a simpler solution.

Much simpler solution.

Daniel sighed and adjusted his hat. Watching over the Sorrows always woke some inner peace in him; Zion had the same effect, being as beautiful as it was. Daniel wished he could stay, but…

He turned to look at the Zion Canyon, spread in front of him like a picture.

But what he actually saw made him stare in shock.

Even though he was stuck in his inner monologue, which usually lasted for a long time (because he usually thought about what could go wrong and there was always a lot of things which could go wrong), his eyes managed to ignore his inner dilema and registered an atypical appearance disturbing the awakening landscape – he saw two persons.

People.

The first one he recognized. The tribal markings of the Dead Horses, the cap – he remembered this particular scout, and if he remembered correctly, his name was Follows-Chalk. The other figure, however, was a whole different story.

First of all, it wasn’t a tribal. It was, very clearly, an outsider – and Daniel knew outsiders. He knew mercenaries, NCR prospectors, raiders. Which one of these was the woman accompanying the scout, that he did not know, but he immediately got that suspicion that she’s up to no good. Maybe he was wrong, of course, and it was wrong to judge someone by the first impression.

But the thing was, first impressions mattered now – and they especially mattered when he had a tribe to protect.

He woke up from his reverie (though he was not sure this was the right term to call it) and headed down from the cliff. He passed some of the Sorrows‘ scouts who gave him confused, questioning looks, meaning that they became aware of the people approaching as well. He simply nodded at them, suggesting that he has the situation under control.

Which he did not.

Once he got in their line of sight again, the scout and the woman saw him too. He finally got a good look on the woman – ashen hair, freckles spread on her face, a hunting rifle on her back. The scout looked mildly distressed, but he seemed to be keen on following her. That, however, didn’t have to mean she posed no danger to him. To the Sorrows.

Daniel thought, and immediately regretted the sentiment – how much better would it be if she run into Joshua instead of him. It surely was strange that her first stop was here, and Daniel just felt his heartbeat getting faster, possesed by fear.

Finally they stood face to face, the woman measuring him with her gaze. He realized that his hand was on his holster, but it was too late to appear charitable now.

„Uh... I apologize if this comes across as a less-than-cordial welcome,“ he said. „But how did you get in here? You from the Mojave?“

The woman opened her mouth, and closed it. It appeared that she was considering what to answer, or more likely, in which way to answer. However, before she actually said anything, Follows-Chalk replied for her: „She came with a caravan, but the White Legs ambushed them! She is the only survivor.“

The woman didn’t say anything, only gave the scout a quick look. A quick one, as if she wanted to keep her eyes on him. Then she finally spoke.

„A Happy Trails Caravan, yeah. If the name rings any bells. Not like it has to anymore. Everyone’s. You know,“ she paused, and added in much quieter voice: „Dead.“

The way she said it made Daniel freeze in the spot for a second. He wasn’t sure if to let go of his holster or just hold it tighter. And yet, another emotion, besides whatever this was, was sympathy.

He decided to put his hand away from his gun.

„That’s,“ he sighed. „I'm so sorry. That's terrible. The tribals, White Legs – we’ve been having a lot of problems with them recently.“

The woman didn’t say anything, so he continued: „In fact, that's why I'm here. I'm Daniel, a New Canaanite missionary to this tribe, the Sorrows. I think it important that you speak to my colleague, Joshua Graham-“

„That’s what I said, but she refused,“ the scout said urgently. The woman scowled and said: „That’s not how I’d put it, I simply decided to seek alternatives.“

Daniel paused. „I – okay. I’d simply feel more comfortable if-“

„No offense, but you’re sending me to Joshua fucking Graham. We came here looking for New Canaanites, not the infamous ex-Legate!“

Daniel blinked few times, slowly. „Joshua Graham is a New Canaanite, just like me. I assure you, he is on our side here.“

„Our side?“ the woman parroted. „You including me in that sentiment as well now, huh?“

„Sentiment?“

„As far as I’m concerned, I’m not on your side. I was supposed to get our caravan to New Canaan, not into this bullshit, so I’d truly prefer getting out of here, you know? Now.“

Daniel nodded, resisting the urge to sigh. He felt like he had enough of her sass for the day and yet, they just began talking. „Listen, I understand that this isn’t what you signed up for. But we didn't ask you to come to Zion. As far as I'm concerned, you're an uninvited guest. In better times, I'd drop everything to help you out, but… these are not those times. And I’d truly prefer if you talked to Joshua about what’s happening here.“

The woman gave him a sharp look. Daniel didn’t know how to properly describe it, but there was hesitation in her eyes, hesitation which very closely reminded Daniel of fear.

Of course.

He could’ve realized it sooner – the courier was hesitating simply because she was afraid of Joshua. Maybe not, of course, but – that look spoke for everything. He’d recognize ít everywhere, specifically because it was residing on faces of all New Canaan inhabitants when he brought Joshua back home, broken, burnt, left to die.

It was only natural, of course. But in this situation, most unwelcome. Daniel gave the woman a long look, thinking about his possibilites.

„You’re injured,“ he suddenly remarked, noticing the wound on her shoulder. It was a simple cut, probably done by White Legs‘ blade, and the woman not being aware of it only proved its triviality; she quickly touched the wound, obviously confused.

„Oh. It’s nothing, really,“ she said.

„Want me to take a look? I’m a doctor. Of sorts.“

„Well…“

„I could fill you in in the meantime. I still think you should at least go to introduce yourself to Joshua, but I can see that you need to understand the situation first.“

The woman finally understood his intention. She gave him a surprised look; honestly, Daniel was surprised himself, but he didn’t want to throw this woman in what she considered a lion’s den. Maybe if he explains her the basics of what’s going on, she won’t be so hesitant about talking to Joshua – and cooperating with Joshua in general.

„Alright, yeah,“ she said. „I think that’d be wise.“

Now it was time for Follows-Chalk to look uneasy. „What should I do then? Should I head back to Joshua and tell him the news?“

„Yes, if you could be so kind,“ Daniel nodded. „Tell him that – um…“

He still didn’t know her name. That was embarrassing.

„A courier,“ the woman chipped in. „Finley.“

„Right, just tell him that Finley will arrive soon and that there’s much for them to discuss, but she’s injured as of now.“

„Can you make it back safe?“ the courier asked.

„I’m going to be okay,“ Follows-Chalk said and smiled. „See you later then, yes? I can not wait!“

The courier nodded, flashing him a smile as well, even though hers was much more hesitant.

With that, Follows-Chalk departed, while the courier and him, with eyes of all the Sorrows on them, entered the Narrows.

[2fast2furiousofficial]

cw: ??? Paranoia, parents, down talk, uh suicide and death comes up, it’s A Lot? Oh specific mention of Cancer. I’m suddenly exhausted and struggling to tag. Also, typos. Read this @ ur own risk, there’s a disclaimer inside re: that and if you mention this post to me I’ll be upset. Especially as I’m going to try and forget I made myself internet-vulnerable by posting it. G’night tumblr.

My like, negative monologue and paranoia found their way back to me with strenght instead of being mostly hushed whispers instead of weird moments or almost more like, speaking in faint images, vague feelings - they weren’t real and sharp and present and it’s been to the point where until recently with the flare up i was pretty soundly thinking some of my diagnosis must be wrong or i was weirdly in super recovery, and if everything felt like, still off, weird? That’s just real life? If BPD like goes away, somehow, magically, I would just feel less.

Everything would be. Less.

Also it’s just weird because I’m comparing all my friendships and shit to my ex who was my FP and close friend and then gf and then ex but like keyword in some of that if FP so everything was more constant and intense so no wonder other friendships don’t match it, fuck, will other romantic relationships?

Like I’m still not bothered too much, I am ultimately okay with being single I think but also like.

I dunno!

But like friends. friends friends friends.

I’m struggling what to do with any of all of them and if you’re a friend I talk to with any goddamn regularity see your way out of this tumblr post. Or like proceed at ur own risk I’m not trying to @ any of y’all I’m just like. verbalizing (textualizing? sure. whatever!) my paranoia and struggles in Friendship TM rn so like please either don’t read this or don’t make it weird because it’s not you it’s me 

God god like i I just can’t find the fucking balance and I think it’s partly because I am constantly bouncing between trying to invest more (too much) into friendships or isolating, or not having the energy, or trying to do both, or all three, I need so badly to be liked but also why thr fuck do you all like me

I’m fake, I’ve got so much imposter syndrome I can’t fucking see straight. Some of my friends think I’m cool and kind of goth??? Think I don’t like people (oh shit), that I’m like, tough, but I’m a fucking goddamn powder puff who is constantly on the verge or crying or emptiness or undesired anger which i then feel guilty about and channel into anger at myself. I hate myself so much that it’s normal, that until something pushes it it can kind of just become background noise and isn’t that sad? Isn’t that sad. I act and say that I don’t, insist I’m cooler and better and sometimes think I do but it’s because I feel so goddamn bad about myself but I know that won’t make me more likeable, saying it won’t make things good, just makes things back and awkward so I have to like fumbling try and like myself or at least fake it.

I’m not cool. I’m fat and ugly and broke and can’t keep a job or do anything right or get my shit together even if i’m goddamn trying.

I try and forget my mother so that missing her will stop. I can’t miss her if I forget her. She won’t exist to forget. I won’t think about her, so I won’t have to miss her, even if every fucking cell in my body carries her, from her genetics and everything that entails (death, mostly, likely from colon cancer) to her finger prints on my brain neurons (my mental illnesses aren’t something to lay at her grave and blame her for but her finger prints and markers are in all of them, I am my mother in so many ways I hoped I wouldn’t be).

I try and forget my father so I won’t miss him either. He’s just a disappointment or a hurt when he’s around, just something else to feel bad about (I can’t make him happy, i’m too gay, too fat, too much like my mother, too much like the sister he’s always abused and treated wrong). He’s not worth the energy.

I try to just... put on a face and exist minimally around my family because they aren’t perfect but they try and do a lot and I love them and I will never be truly one of my aunt and uncles children, a sibling to my cousins, my uncle won’t just give me casual affectionate contact and i’m too hold and don’t have the history to crawl into my aunts bed and just cry with her about how awful and broken I feel and they love me so much even if I’m not quite these things so why isn’t it fucking enough?

my ex is an essay i don’t want to do because every time i fucking reach some further progress and closure i lose it and I hate it, I hate it, I hate how part of me still aches and misses her but do I miss her or just the idea of her, what she represented?

That someone could love me, that someone could get me?

But like. Ha, the more you know me, the less you know me, right?

I think it’s a lot like that.

Everyone leaves eventually.

Like my friends, fuck, like everyone is good and fine and I’m the goddamn problem ultimately?

Because my brain just cooks shit up like

Don’t respond to them.

? I’m tired so I will later but-

Don’t, all they do is x. They only talk to you about x. When have they talked to you about anything else, they don’t deserve you, they only want want you can do for them and don’t actually care about you, fuck them, fuck this, this always happens--

or well shit you can be more attentive and still just get same shit different angle,

You now y is just using you to ease their own loneliness and depression.

I am 99% that’s like most human interaction, we’re all supposed to try and help one another-

They don’t actually LIKE you, not really, they don’t know you and how garbage you really are. They wouldn’t like that Logan. They’ll go when you stop being useful, stop being enough, the first time you mess up, and you will, you try so hard, so goddamn hard but you will

I want someone to like the garbage parts of me but also I don’t, because, I can’t even like those parts, why the fuck should they, why, why, people will go if I show those parts or want me to change them and I want to change them too but also some shit doesn’t change and some shit is just me, maybe some of this isn’t just garabage or stuff to learn or unlearn, some part sof me just suck, though who even knows which ones, which parts are real, because i’m so fucking fake you can poke holes through me, at least half of my happiness is even fake but if I don’t at least try and fake it it won’t exist and people won’t want tp interact and i’ll be a drain and i can’t have that, I can’t stand owing people or being a burden even if that’s all I ever do, i don’t understand human interaction and friendships and i hate how i can’t disappear - a few weeks or months - and come back without it being a thing, but also i want people to worry, not to Worry but to give a shit but also WHY SHOULD THEY and I expend all this energy on friendships but sometimes I’m not sure why, if i even want them, but i also know i need friends and like friends and am a friendly person and just

i hate. this. Being so many different pieces and conflicting feelins and reactions and i just want to start over. I want to die and have another playthrough. I want to run away and cut ties with everyone and just... live a different life.

Guess I’m actively suicidal again for the first time in awhile. That’s sort of new.

I think I’m finally tired. I’m... going to post this and try and forget I did.

It will feel like too much of a backstep to just delete it, but I can’t edit this either.

if you read this: none of this is @ or about you, again, this is my bullshit brain and me struggling. You’re good friends, some of you are even wonderful friends, I do. Love you. As much as I can love anyone. Which is a lot sometimes, and other times it’s.

Not? I dunno. I’m broken, I don’t know what to tell you.

Also like don’t talk to me about it because I can’t handle that and will very seriously get mad. 

i’m going to sleep.