It's hot. What scares me is that it's going to be this hot for the next week and that I can't do anything about it. And that I'm in a disadvantaged position despite being very much used to the heat.
***
My room's on the ground floor, but as I might've mentioned earlier, I have asphalt all around. It's a 19th century building so there's quite a bit of temperature inertia. The window is oriented south. I don't have external blinds: they are inside the room, with a dark-coloured light-blocking curtain in front of it. The heat is getting in regardless.
I can't even imagine how the ones on the second floor are doing. Those in poor neighbourhoods. Or those on the street. Esme's building has been emptied as to make way for the future recruits, so she lives at a friend's house, but the building itself was probably poorly insulated.
***
I'm very tired. Watch shows I slept for 6 hours and 40 minutes and that my heart rate does go down to regular levels even on those hot nights, but I still had trouble getting up this morning and am not feeling so well. I can barely eat, feel my stomach more than usual, and I have mild nausea. Tried to cool down a little by putting my feet in a basin of water, but since I had to put my laptop on charge again I'm waiting until it can be used on battery (because let's not get electrocuted?) to do it again.
I almost died three times in less than a year. The suicide attempt. The shelf. I guess it wouldn't be that surprising if the heat were to get me.
It would just be my final piece of proof that life is trying its hardest to get rid of me, or that my end is meant to happen now. That I'm fighting for a future that purely and simply doesn't exist for me. That my soul keeps trying to exit its body because it feels like this world is just unfit and that there's absolutely no point in continuing, but I don't let it because I'm too stubborn. I'm a contrarian. I'm the child you have to beat into compliance and even as you beat her down and even break her bones, she will lay down and cry for a while, but then later come back with a vengeance, and you'll have to beat her into submission again, and that's what she deserves.
It's been wanting to get rid of me for close to a year now, and it may be able to get me, finally. Finally take the annoying thorn out of its side.
***
I just feel like this week, every entry I post could potentially be the last. It was something I was aware of before the shelf fell on me eleven days ago. It's something I am now a thousandfold more aware of. And something I'm nearly expecting. I feel constantly like I'm this close to provoking yet another near-death or straight up deadly situation. It reminds me of when I was seven and constantly afraid that a fire would break out at night, even if I have never been in a fire.
It feels like I'm never going to see my cats ever again, or get the chance to tell Hopoe I love her, and to hold her in my arms, lovingly. Like I'll never be with my mom again. Like I'll never fly far, far away, home. Like I'll never become a good dancer purely and simply because I will never dance again.
Perhaps I should have let it crush me.
But I can't go back. And my survival instinct kicked in.
I wish it hadn't, and that I could have the courage to stand the pain of compression asphyxiation.
I wish I wasn't a leftover of a bygone era.
Who knows if I'm not just one to cling to the past because I can feel myself fading away and I'm just desperate not to fade into non-existence? What if all I do, all that drives me, is that I'm just clinging to the past?
What if Hopoe truly doesn't want anything to do with me anymore? Even if every time I say it, something in me just goes "yeah but if she truly did, she would've either told you straight up or re-blocked you"?
What if... I'm just a desperate piece of garbage trying my hardest to prove I'm not a piece of garbage?
***
I've survived many heatwaves. But this one? And the ones coming? Global warming? The heat might just be too much for me and I guess I'm coming to terms with it. That every summer may be the one that finally ends my existence.
I hope I get to write, publish, and dance, and be known, and be loved, and marry...
but perhaps it's never going to happen.
Perhaps my destiny is to have been born curious, and to die sad, after life is done grinding me down and taking every possible thing I can trust in or believe in until I'm left at a point I can neither trust myself nor others, nor the world around me, and this is the point where I give up.
I don't want to let it win. But do I have a choice?
If it wants you out, it will find a way.
Can't escape your fate forever.
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