i just realized something crazy (tw: insane shit)

i love breaking character !!! Whenever I read an extra-sappy romcom manga chapter, I feel a sense of dread and apathy inside me, even though these two emotions seem to contradict each other. When I feel this sinking feeling, I type a comment talking about how I can't wait to kill myself. "haha!! this couple is so happy with their life, i'm going to kill myself!!". Sometimes, Insane people who should be killed tell me that if that is what I want, then I should just blow my face off. But... Most of the time, I get a couple of comments that tell me not to kill myself, and whenever I go back and read these comments (i read my own comments) left by strangers, I feel a sense of joy and relief. Joy and relief for the sole reason that I hold significance in another person's life. If they learned that I died, they would be saddened, if only for a moment. I value myself only by how impactful I am on another person. If I were to blow my head off on stage, I'm sure I could permanently scar some child sitting in the front. I hope it does. I hope the blood gushing from my extruded hole splashes some kid sitting front and center. I hope he tastes some of my iron. Anyway, I really liked how so many people told me not to kill myself. They paid attention to someone worth nothing and said kind words to them. I like that. Even as I reveled in the attention only garnered by others' concern and pity, a deep subconscious part of my soul said that wasn't enough. I wish they could care about me more. I wish people would care. I need them to care, and care a lot. If I were to hold a gun to my head in front of a crowd, the kindest of the group would come up and say, "I want you to live. I love you, I would be sad by your death." I know that's a lie. Some day, they will get too tired or find it too much of a hassle to keep being wary of my landmine tendencies and swooping in to help every time. When that person leaves me I will put a gun to my head again and wait for the kindest of the group to.. pay attention. I find wallowing in my hole of self-pity and suicidal tendencies to be somewhat comforting. I think being sad all the time might just make me feel happy in the future. You know, back when I was, like... 11 or something, I went to my parents' bedroom and cried. I wept profusely. I was sobbing, snot on pillows, drinking the snot and tears, in a salty concoction. The reason I cried is lost to time, and probably something idiotic. I kept wailing and wailing and wanting someone to hold me and saying everything would be okay, and my parents did. My parents did hold me. My parents did tell me that everything would be okay. In response, I just kept wailing and wailing and wailing, and it never seemed to stop, my tears. In the late nights of like 1 am or something, after a whole night of sniffling and sobbing, my dad pulled away and told me, "You really like wallowing in misery." I mean, I paraphrased it, but I'm pretty sure he said something of the same vein. At first, I was appalled. "How dare he accuse me of being a self absorbed self pitying brat!!" I kept thinking that my emotions were important and valid, all through my wee years 🤣 But later I did realize that he was right. He was right in most other aspects of life, my father. I did really like feeling like I could tie a rope to my ceiling fan and suffocate myself to death at any moment. It was comforting, I think. Maybe that could tie in to my insane love of romcoms about being like wishfulfilment or whatever, it doesn't matter. At least it made me into a romcom connosieur with degrees in edging for emotional pain. You know, I jerked it to Aunt Cass porn like last week, the one where they like do the fucking tags thing. It kept lingering in my mind. Not the porn, but the feelings I had when I watched it. As I watched them banter and fuck, all I could think about was how pointless this act was. My penis was flaccid. My eyes were dead. It was 2 AM, and I had a project due tomorrow. I went to sleep that night, but no semen was spilled. Does it matter? Does anything even matter? These thoughts run through my mind regularly, and I make no attempt to push them out of my headspace. They're welcome at this point. If anyone were to argue that things matter, I don't think I would ever agree. (nothing ever happens truther lmao) The joy does come, and I do feel happy, but when the people leave, and the attention to me wanes, I feel empty inside. I don't think anything matters. I really want to be loved, but my parents are loving, i think. I'm tired boss 🥺 anyway chat how was that I really locked in for a second I really hope people read this it'd be SUCH a waste if no one read what i wrote i really bore my heart there , ,, ok so ummm comment your FAVORITE fear down below!!!! :finger_pointing_down: if anyone relates also write that also tell me not to kill myself it helps my mental kiss kiss