Usseewa

Tbh i still don't quite know for me when it's a crush or just wanting to be friends with them.. idk. maybe imagine you doing partner-y things like holding hands or wtvr (...idk how it works...) idk maybe.. like how much time sort of you spend with them, or.. like idk i feel like it'd be ... no nvm... like maybe a pull or at least at the start vs like.. a looser tug for friends? a loose.. idk how to describe it

From an SU i posted like a minute ago but figured it'd make a good post maybe.. ive already written about this before in poetry or whatnot but figured it might be relatable idk. I think it's a common experience from what little life I've lived.. do other people sometimes when walking do you walk slowly or try to acct as normal as possible, not looking back? do you not move, not look, when lying in bed cuz u know/feel It watching? you gotta act like you dont know It's there.. but oh ado it's so frightful, so terrifying i want it to end, want to escape, want the day to return. and windows, ado the windows.. there's windows everywhere, It can always see you, you can't hide. u can forget abt it for a bit, or hide under the covers, in a closet, but you remember. always remember. it never left. i run to the next room, shut the door behind me and walk away from the crack or the bottom so it doesn't still see me. but, of course, it finds it's way into this room as well... never leaves me alone.. im never alone, though i can pretend to be.. i can forget for a bit.. but i always remember. i sit on my floor reading house of leaves, and i know its behind me, watching me- me, vulnerable. i turn and look. it's not there, of course... i check the rest of my room, but don't see it- i dont think my eyes are working, i missed too many spots... its lurking, hiding, in the shadows or in an inconspicuous spot.. i cant check everywhere... i just have to try to ignore it... hope - let - sleep take me.. it still enters my mind within my dreams - nightmares? - of course .. of course i cant escape it.. i become Esu, it hunts me, violent this time.. i can run, i can run but it never lets me rest... there is but one escape and that is death.. out, alone at night outside the presumed safety - not safety - of a building, it is there more than ever.. i. the shadows of night beyond vision, perhaps in a dark window, over my shoulder, too many places... perhaps it is everywhere. i cannot seek shelter as there is none, or perhaps i can.. maybe it would be better if i ... if i closed my eyes and hid, myself.. if my eyes are closed can it see me? i lie in bed avoiding its gaze when it is before me, not looking when it is behind- breathe down my neck, eyes on my throat, my body. what does it want, this sadistic beast? this ... this shadow of a torturer or a torture device, haunting me.. always haunting me.. why doesnt it show itself, i wonder... why... why.. sometimes... sometimes i can almost see it, or convince myself.. but not really, no.. it does not like to be seen. like me.

A poem.

lol hehe i somehwat disagree with that but only in some cases. ogherwise it's kinda good. if you *can* understand something, it can feel weird/cool lol, and can help with other stuff kinda.. but yeah i defo do that ye..

uhhh might read this eventually cuz i still dont really understand imaginaries kinda? was this intentional??

Hopefully this wasn't useless. I think I might be emotionless right now, perhaps in a positive-neutral way...? So idk

TW: Some suicidal ideation, mild (?) self-harm allusions/references/words. (Sorry for all the TW's. I don't want you to take this as me being in a bad/rough spot, no matter if I am or not. But I feel I should warn viewers, readers. I think these TW's for this one are fairly mild but... not completely. Certainly they are there- the content warranting them, that is.) I've heard some of the arguments, responses, reassurances or caveats to minimizing one's (or another's) struggle. Things like the counter to "other people have it [much] worse" being "there's always someone who has it worse," or "every struggle is valid" (more paraphrased), or something. Still, when others validate or acknowledge that I am *struggling*, I can't really acknowledge it myself. I fear hyperbolising (for lack of a better word) my supposed struggle, my life, my so-called "pain." Is it pain, struggle, when the pain is self-inflicted without reason? When the struggle is caused by endless self-reflecting? Like that artwork (Salvador Dalí's The Face of War, from an internet search that took longer than usual) with the face in the eyes and the mouth, the fractal, the head that goes on forever? Recursion, repeating, cyclical thinking. Spirals, not Fibonacci ones. As they are not "beautiful," to the eyes of Them. Yet do They even know beauty beyond Them? And there I go, implying things I do not know for certain and perhaps not with any degree of reality. Back to the topic, the topic at hand, my hands. Yes, both. I fear I have not struggled, where is the evidence? I say sometimes that I hate myself, yet oft - or, maybe it depends on the mood - reluctance, unsureness (?). What do I hate? I don't feel anything, really? How can I hate? I don't really think, I don't care much for myself, I don't think anything, I don't think about myself at all, so why did I hate myself? Then I think back to the guilt and all the pain it has caused me (a sentence written hesitantly- haltingly, for a better word [?]), and am reminded - if faintly so - of the reason. Am I trying, here, to write another... meaningful piece? I hope not, but likely I am; trying to continue the Success Streak. Sigh. I think I have said this before, but I feel like my life is a sigh, at least in moments like these. Guilt. Perhaps in moments like these I am repressing it, as I recall... not quite wanting to live with myself. I could not have lived with what I had done, I don't think. It would have been made better had I known, if I knew, other things- things I feel I am fabricating, grasping at, not even imagining (as that would make them more real). I am not going to name these things here, likely not to anyone anytime soon. It pains me - a good sign, perhaps, of the empathy I thought I had lost - to think of it, of what it may have done/has done, permanently. I try to tell myself things to lessen it, yet then I think back to it, always. Always. Perhaps an alternative title for this work/post could have been "Guilt/Guile" or something similar, a play on those words, though one not-so-cliché or dumb. As that fits, I think. I feel deceitful when others feel I am suffering or have suffered- a conclusion likely wrought, informed, from my potential lies. How do I express without causing this? Without lying? How do I express, when I feel the majority - or perhaps just part - of my experience is made-up by me? I convince myself of things unlikely to be true- about myself and others, Them. Yet what if they are? Yet that means they are likely not. So, what is my "struggle"? What suffering have I or am I enduring? Is it the self-inflicted pain with no cause, no reason, other than simply to do it- perhaps hiding a selfish reason? Is it my empty childhood that They say was the best they could do, was not bad, was rife - or at least containing - opportunities, experiences, interactions? Is it my sleeping, how I stay up with little reason, even when tired? Is it my mind - my thoughts - my overthinking, my struggle to know myself? And there I have used the word, struggle, somewhat automatically. Is it the brainfog, the haze, whatever this may be? Is it what I have convinced myself exists? What I cannot remember, even what they say? What I convince myself of yet cannot bring myself to believe or acknowledge? What I ignore, repress, shove away, shake out of my head, bury? Am I suffering from loneliness, or from rejection, betrayal- however perceived? Am I suffering from trying to remember, trying to forget, trying both and failing? Perhaps there is nothing to remember, and I cannot forget. So many hypotheticals, etc. I've been told stuff about these. I do not know, I can't think of what my struggle may be. Do others see it so clearly, or are they simply hearing and seeing my spoken evil?

damn well.. idk either

How do u feel abt it/them?

Yay! Good luck

Tis mediocre wbu

251

uhmm.. elabortae? 247

245 lol..

HELLO edit: wwit what's this wabout

Even one good day or portion of a day can feel really good, or good in general. It's relieving. I've found that, against my "desire," getting out of my room usually helps. Maybe I'm just repeating you, but I find it true as well for me. Things that don't seem so great but somehow feel nice.

We might, if someone's online when/if you click on this notification?...hehe... (even if u dont post, u might be seen viewing this topic...) 218

sis getrid the si https://youtu.be/XM8Mo67hzpg

Finally. Wrote this now, here. CW Suicide That was kinda short sorry if not detailed enough like with writing quality idk... I just needed to write that idk, might edit/expand eventually, but it's been an idea of mine for a lil bit...