the world is an endless knife to the ones with the softest skin. people continue to prove themselves to be hostile and corrupt. if given the opportunity, everyone will show their malevolence, myself included. the world wasn't made for happiness, we were made to reproduce - that's the only clear meaning nature gives to all life. reproduction is the transmission of life, and i hate life. i cannot find fulfillement within any corner of existence. i cannot ever exist without the touch of the sufferers hand, no one can. this world was built on cruelty, and we will continue to create more cruelty, and we will never stop. i have no hope for the human race. i wish i could call myself a misanthrope, but i love humanity, i love it enough to hate it's vices. my dreams of a hospitable society continue to be just... dreams.

i wished and i hoped that this feeling would go away, that maybe i would, some day, find a place where i would finally belong, but i always seem to come to the conclusion that there is no such place. everything is drenched in iniquity, and as happiness-seeking humans we create distractions within love and religion to divert ourselves from it, because constant exposure with no remedy continues to be torture.

i guess this is a point i keep circling back to on and on with my writing - i genuinely believe there is a great suffering to the world that only a select few that are honest to themselves see. it seems like suffering overpowers all good in the world, as the good is finite and fleeting anyway. this existential pessimism is not one someone can easily distract themselves from. it runs deep. when i think of friendships and relationships, my mind often jumps to the end of them. the unstability of these bonds makes me feel so, so, so alone. but i think the only thing that can be a sort of antidote to this is believing in yourself. that you matter outside of other people; have a strong emotional backbone. it is very isolating, yeah, but it's the only thing that is true. you carry yourself everywhere you go, and you cannot escape yourself. you're stuck in this body until death, so, eventually, you'll have to reconcile with this brain which doesn't seem to go quiet.

every single day i am filled with dread. i am holding on by a string, which gets thinned out every day. by the endless monotony. by school. by the people around me. by the expectations placed upon me. i don't know what i am doing. i am so lost and every day the only thing that gives me a glimmer of hope and structure is the daydream of me disappearing away from this place and ending it all. one day, this will become more than a dream. i can see such clear visions of it, even if the whole thing isn't as realistic as i am planning it to be. i know nothing i say here matters to anyone, rightfully so. i also wouldn't take the words of a mentally ill 15 year old too seriously if i was you. but, god, please god. tell me no. someone tell me no and i will go back to the routine that kills me every day. if someone, just someone would notice the otherworldly pain i have to carry every day. or atleast tell me the whole exile won't work and hold me and tell me that i am allowed to keep going, even if i have no plan to do so and am afraid to. please, someone, hear me. i am drowning.

i'm tired of pretending. the world is so dark and i genuinely can't bear it. just the innate act of existence is not only exhausting, but also so agonising and torturous. however put us here clearly wanted us to suffer. i can't stop feeling like i don't belong anywhere. not to the darkness. not to the light. and clearly others have it a lot worse, so that just means that i will not feel better ever. it's my own head that's a war and it is the outside world that is in war. no kind of medication will make me forget how it sucks to be born in this world. i hope death is truly an escape and not just another trap.
it hurts. it always has.

sleep doesn't fix this tiredness. it's a soul-deep exhaustion. i often dream about the next day and the possibilities and i realise that that's the worst nightmare of all. reality. i have done everything to try and escape it. but if living is just an escape from reality, then what's the point? sometimes i wish i could just go to sleep and never have to wake up ever again. every day is exactly the same. i thought death would be an escape, but when i was met with the possibility of reincarnation or any afterlife at all, i panicked. i don't want to do this ever again. especially if there's a chance i'll have to live an even worse life. whatever. thanks for tuning into my whining...

my mind has been extremely loud for the past couple of days. don't know how to make all of this even a little more quiet. i'm scared to stay here.

it's my birthday. doesn't really feel like it when you have no friends to celebrate with.

no matter what i always feel so... cosmically alone. i just can't shake this feeling off. it follows me wherever i go.

the more i learn about this world the less i want to live in it.

nothing ever helps. im starting to think this emptiness just comes with the shitty thing we're given called life. i think i will never be happy while i'm on this earth. true peace only comes with dying.

living doesn't seem so hard for others. then why is it for me?