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I've been alone for as long as I can remember. People always act like it's something to pity, but I don't need anyone. I don't need companionship. I don't need to be surrounded by people to feel validated. I'm fine on my own.

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Every time I think I can escape, I'm pulled back. There's no running from this. No matter where I go, the emptiness follows me. The isolation, the quiet, it's like a part of me now. I've tried to outrun it, but there's nowhere left to run. Maybe that's why I never stop. Maybe running is the only thing that keeps me sane.

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Peanut butter's supposed to be satisfying, but it never is. No matter how much you spread on your toast, it never feels like enough. You can't get the right balance of peanut flavor and sweetness. You're always left wanting more. Life's just like that, isn't it?

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They all think I'm angry, but what do they know? Anger is just another form of control. I've embraced it. The pain, the rage, the chaos…it's all part of me. It's what keeps me moving forward. If you can't handle the storm inside me, then you have no place in my world.

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A trans kid told me their favorite color is blue. It reminded me of Sonic, and for once, that didn 't annoy me.

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The wind was strong today. It felt like the world was trying to push me back.

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I wish I could escape. Leave this world behind. But there's nowhere to run. The darkness follows you, no matter how far you go. I've tried. Trust me, it never works.

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I hate how catchy the "pingas" meme is. I never asked for it to be a part of my life, but here we are. Every time someone says "pingas," I cringe, but then I can't stop laughing. It's like I'm trapped in this endless cycle of watching the same ridiculous YouTube Poop clips.

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You think you're going to stop me? You think you can outsmart me? You're a fool. I've already seen all your tricks, all your moves. You're nothing compared to me. You're just another pawn in a game I'm already winning.

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I found an old journal while cleaning. It was empty. I considered writing in it, but decided against it. Some thoughts are better left unwritten.

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People tell me I'm strong. But they don't see the cracks in my soul. They don't see how weak I really am. I don't need anyone's admiration. I don't need anyone to see me as something I'm not.

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A man on the street was preaching about hope. I told him hope is a lie we tell ourselves to endure.

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I could destroy everything right now. I could wipe the slate clean. But what would that do? Nothing. There's no point in trying to save something that's already rotting from the inside. This world is beyond saving, and I'm beyond caring. If you think you're going to change it, go ahead and try. But just know, you're doing it alone.

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The laundromat smelled like detergent and regret.

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A mechanic tried to tell me my motorcycle needs a tune-up. I told him it runs fine, just like I do. He did not argue.

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Sonic is always trying to show off. He's fast, he's flashy, and he thinks that makes him better than everyone else. But speed doesn't mean anything if you don't know what to do with it. Sonic's just running in circles, while I've got a real purpose.

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I'm done playing the victim. People always look at me like I'm some tragic figure, but I'm not. I've made my own choices, and I've accepted the consequences. I'm not a victim. I'm a survivor.