Cutting

 Retroactively published in August 2026 before getting rid of the notebook that this was written in.

Cuts. Lots of them.

I'm close to my end. It's like when you're walking alongside the edge of a cliff and trying your best not to look down, but the abyss is calling you and you can't quite not look away and then it's staring back at you. 

Because yes, look at the abyss in the eye, and it will look back at you. It hasn't ever stopped staring at you, actually. It's been a while.

When will I finally manage to jump?

Because yes, one day, I will. I just am waiting for my last guardrails to fail. One day, nothing will stop me. And that day, maybe, will be the last of my life. The best, probably.


[fuck I really was not doing well]

Empty

 Retroactively published in August 2026 before getting rid of the notebook that this was written in.

Where's the limit between consciousness, spirituality, and psychosis...

No appetite. I'm not sure why.

So much fog outside that you can't see 50m away.

It's going to kill me

Retroactively published in August 2026 before getting rid of the notebook that this was written in.

This is going to kill me. This is going to kill me. I can't say a word about it.

It's going to kill me, look, it already is killing me. I'm so close to the edge and yet so far from it.

If someone could see me, now. Not simplify anything. Not give me some retarded advice. Not not give a shit. be with me, in my pain!

Nobody has been there for me like I've always needed. I'm always here for others, but who's there for me? I'm afraid that it won't be changing anytime soon for me.

Assassine

 Retroactively published in August 2026 before getting rid of the notebook that this was written in.

I refuse to sabotage you, Hopoe dear.

Even if I must die, I refuse to put you in trouble.

Moral development

Retroactively published in August 2026, copied from a notebook I'm getting rid of because I don't use it much if at all.

Moral development: your dog poops right in front of someone's gate. "Shit, I didn't take a bag with me". You go get one a while away, you come back, you clean up the dog's poop.

What kind of level is that?

Also, the vertical cuts are fading away, good. Message to Cepheus. I want to send him some chapters but I'm afraid that he will tell Hopoe that the main love interests is very... resembling.

Feeling like sending Cassiopeia a text as well. But afraid to disturb.

I'm like that. Overly responsible. I don't know how to rid myself of that fear.

Nobody is coming to save you, and that's a massive problem

Sounds familiar?

"Nobody is coming to save you."

I can hear someone say it to me like that, looking me dead in the eyes, with a stern tone to their voice. The one that says a cutting truth (or lie that can masquerade just fine as a truth, proven it's said with enough conviction and sounds good enough in the ear of the average man) with a seriousness as heavy as a slab of lead being lowered on your head.

Some will say this is empowering. After all, when you realize nobody is coming to save you, you can do anything you want. You can also be proud of yourself for having been strong, pulled yourself up by the bootstraps when you were at your lowest, all while the world turned their head away, God forbid they saw the struggle of a fellow man and felt guilty for not stepping in!

Others will say it's depressing. Nobody is coming to save you? The heart breaks. The ground drops from under your feet. In the end that's true. It's a truth you preferred to hide from yourself, that all the thoughts were, in fact, not a delusion of your mind: that indeed, nobody cares. That everyone would rather eat shit than lend you a hand while you're drowning in sorrow. But that's the truth, isn't it? The truth is never pretty. She cuts, she is cold, she is hard, she will bite you like the cold in the middle of a winter night. Pierce through you like a sword, leave you in pieces, or rather, your illusions.

I will say that this mentality it's an enormous problem considering we are social creatures and have evolved as such, and nothing would make us truly able to deny our nature without causing consequential damage.

Nobody is coming to save you. That has to be the most individualistic idea that I've stumbled across, along with the honestly grating "love yourself" and other platitudes that are here to throw you the middle finger when all you want is for other people to care at least a little about you, when all you want is to belong, to be loved, to be cherished by a tribe.