Rants

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Too many bad memories of toxic communications and interactions resurfacing.

So much pain,
so much yearning
My mind is burning
Seriously it kind of hurt

To an end we are no longer working
Just questions of selfishness and judgement
Can there be more to life than such?
Besides bad poems.

AAARRRRRRHHAAAAAEEEOOOOOUUUUUUUUUU!

I seem to have been born and bred for failure. The only lesson my extremely meagre experience of the world seems to have taught me so far is that each and every interesting thing in life isn’t for me. I don’t really want to believe it, but I seem unable to make any change. Sometimes I think I’d be willing to do literally anything to make myself a little less worthless, even if it’s the last thing I do, but I don’t know what to do at all.

Sorry, I don't have a answer for you, I'm tired too.

I used to feel like screaming all the time, now I just can't be bothered.

F*ck this pointless sh*t life.

F*ck this sh*t.

It was supposed to be here and it's still not, if it's not soon, I seriously am going to be tempted to do something stupid.
And if it comes up as something else then I *will* do something stupid.
And my sex drive still has not come back, if it doesn't soon I am seriously going to lose it.

I don't think I'll ever find the partner I want: someone who loves me, is my friend and can talk to me, is attracted to me and likes having sex with me. I can't imagine ever getting all of those in one person.

Welcome to the club

Not really a rant but more of a mind dump.

Maybe I should just go home. There is absolutely nothing here for me anymore after the last few months, and I never wanted to be here in the first place. All of the things that were keeping me here aren't anymore, and at least if I go home, I can still do what I want to do in terms of study - it will just be free instead of me paying for it. And before I do that, I can have a nice 3 month long vacation from people in Pará in the middle of nowhere. - with some other species for company.

There's nothing keeping me here so I don't know why I haven't gone already. I haven't found another job. I know if I go back I will get reverse culture shock for a while, but it will pass.
Also a good chance to actually spend time with my father properly, for once in my life.
Which begs the question of - Why the hell am I still here?

Because you can!

Just kidding. I envy you a lot. I’ve been so long at the place I was born, unable to do anything interesting, there’s nothing I wish more than to go far away, never to come back. But my chances look slim.

Honestly, this feels less like depression and more like ptsd. I'm weird like that. Feeling a bit better.

How much can I possibly miss talking to someone. It almost doesn't make sense. I am currently not feeling any anxiety, but I can't seem to stop crying.

I'm so sick of my face. I'm so sick of my eyes. I'm so sick of my hair. I'm so sick of my skin. I'm so sick of my back. I'm so sick of my belly. I'm so sick of my arse. I'm so sick of my thighs. I'm so sick of my c**t. I'm so sick of my legs. I'm so sick of my feet. I'm so sick of my brain. I'm so sick of my nerves. I'm so sick of my hormones.

I want a full body transplant.

I need someone to love me in a grown-up way. I am horribly messed up. I am very vulnerable. I realise could go my whole sorry life without it happening. I can't do just sex (I'm too traumatised and emotional for that) and friendship isn't enough. I want passion and I want to touch another person's inner being - like their soul if souls even existed.

I should be happy on my own, but I never truly am. It's definitely not about being happy, though. I just have to love and be loved, it's my raison d'etre. It's hard to explain, but it's like every bit of my body and mind is existing for it. One day this flesh machine inhabit will shut down and this vital animating force will fade like a dead star.

I am really all alone and this love affair I crave won't happen. I'm sick of trying to be content and detatched. I can forget about what I feel for a while, or distance myself from it, but it's always there. I guess I just have to keep in mind that none of it matters because I'm going to die, anyway. I can only do what I can. Even hope is too painful. I just have to live blindly.