I believe I have come across an unbelievably important discovery. If only I could figure out what that is. For months now, I’ve felt like I was on the brink of a massive discovery of some kind. I think I’ve finally figured out what it is. Well, except I still have no idea what it’s called.<\/p>\n
Make no sense? Good! If it made sense then it wouldn’t be a massive discovery (unless it’s physics but that’s nothing new unless it’s quantum physics because everything about that is new). Honestly, it’s been a bit since I’ve written an absolute mess of a blog. So, naturally, here’s a huge mess of a blog.<\/p>\n
I’ve recently watched Demon Slayer. It was pretty good. I’ve also been playing Minecraft again, which is fantastic. I want to skip school and go home early this week, specifically on Wednesday afternoon, because a game that I’ve been waiting three or four years for is finally releasing on Thursday. It’s called ‘Elden Ring’, and was produced by the same company that made Dark Souls, Bloodborne, and Sekiro (among other fantastic games). It’s their first truly open world game and I’m extremely excited for it. Sadly, not going to be able to do that, since I have to ‘strive for academic success’. I literally write. This does not actually require school.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I feel as though I’ve been restricted to a genre. I have to write insanity. I have to write mental illness. The only things I feel are ever worth presenting are the things I write about those topics. I never share anything I really write for me. It’s so different from everything else, and I’m not sure how it would be received. Yes, I enjoy writing about mental illness, but it’s such a consuming thing to write about. Once you become “known” for it, you can’t write anything else. I want to show off what I’m actually proud of, but I feel as if it won’t be enjoyed. It’s ridiculous. The product of work I’ve done for myself cannot be presented because I believe I might be the only one who likes it. That’s the point! I write those for me! They’re mine! It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks so long as I enjoy them!<\/p>\n
But, even then. I guess, to some extent, it comes down to a fear of being known. Nobody knows who I really am. It is all a culmination of a million lies that I’ve told so that people like me. I can’t even use my real voice because nobody would be able to hear it. I’m not allowed to be me because “I” am invisible. So, I’m doing something weird now. I’m writing something with the intention that it is bad. I’m writing trash. It’s meant to be trash. It’s just a bunch of dumb jokes that I thought would be funny that I’ve loosely tied to a barely comprehensible plot. I know it’s bad, but it’s me. It’s all over the place, quick paced, and seems to lead nowhere in particular.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I’ve tried so hard to entertain others that I had forgotten to take the time to actually be myself. I had become so consumed by other people that I had become someone I wasn’t, and done things I have been less than proud of.<\/p>\n
I want to share an image with you, if you’re still even reading. Do you know what a red spider lily is? They’re my favorite flower. Now, make them a light sky blue. It’s snowing, and there’s a white fog. It’s not really freezing, it just feels cool. This place is my escape. It’s not much, but it’s mine. It’s inspired by a few of my favorite songs. Though I won’t share those yet.<\/p>\n
So. We’ve made it this far. We’re almost to the end of the school year. Summer is really just right around the corner, even if it doesn’t seem or feel like it. I’ll be graduating next year, regardless of what school I end up graduating from.\u00a0<\/p>\n
I’ve been compared to air, wind, and even fire several times throughout my life. I’ve always understood why they thought that. They can only see the air I’ve taken from others, the wind that I stole. I even took fire. What am I really, then? If I am not these, then what am I?<\/p>\n
I am ice. I am cold. This isn’t a bad thing. It’s me. I don’t rely on people. I don’t require social interaction. I could easily live with next to no actual direct human interaction and I would be perfectly fine.\u00a0<\/p>\n
But that which I’ve taken cannot be like that. The wind and air must move, and the fire must burn. So, I think I’d like to return that which I’ve taken. I’d like to keep myself to the ice.\u00a0<\/p>\n
Not many people are born as a natural wallflower. People seem to trust me with a lot of things quickly. I never forget the moment someone comes to me for help. Every time, every problem. Every fear, hope, and sorrow. Even every joy. But, I’m immature. I forget that my actions have consequences, I act without thinking. I hurt people.<\/p>\n
I’m not good with people. I never know what to do. I never follow my own sense. I can’t care about someone without hurting them. No matter how much I want to, I always end up hurting them.\u00a0<\/p>\n
If I had a time machine, I know exactly what I would do differently, and what I would keep the same. But, that’s not possible. All I can do is make sure I learn from my mistakes. Apologizing is pointless if I don’t.\u00a0<\/p>\n
So, now I’m here. I’ve come to a ‘beginning’.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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