I listened to Beetle the Bard audiobook, a few children's stories told in the Potter universe, and fell asleep to those. The Grimm Brothers made up a lot of dark stories too and the way some big movie companies have distorted them into having happy endings and lots of singing is also in a way disgusting.
People outside walking dogs. Wish I had a dog but that would be cruel too. What is there worth living really. I'm not just self-isolating but there is nowhere to go. Can't escape the dullness of my lonely mind. Same schemas every day. A model of behaviours, thoughts, everyday mud to stomp through and gray mist to see through. Where's the light? Colors? What is new when everything has been invented already. Earth goes around the sun. Wind blows. A seed of some tree falls of your hair. Your cold shadow follows you like the smile of your first crush. It's all damp and depressing and maggots will eat you. Circle of life.

The sound of on ambulance siren long gone still stuck in your ear drums while you have a shower. Perfect and forever as if you want to step foot in Heaven. Filled your purpose and then rest?
Proof of things happening and changing is in the small things. Where does an eye lash end up after you've brushed your eyes with your fists to get rid of the dirt of yesterday's worth of blinks and squints. It was dead matter already your hair. Living thing formed of so much dead things like an ocean's cold arms. First it stabs like a million blades but stay long and it's deadly. Most painful way to die is drowning yet it is a pretty popular way to kill yourself. I don't feel like hurting myself. Leaving marks on my skin to be feeling alive or not feel numb or whatever and I've hurt myself enough to heal. I just sleep. Perhaps one day I don't wake anymore. I'll become possessed. Whatever possesses me to write daily in this shit is just waste of my life too. Nobody gonna remember me.
Everything has it's peak or when you blossom or glow and then your time is up... I'm not leaving anyone behind. I won't multiply. There's not enough room on this planet or love. I'm not a normal human being. I'm a bastard and rather not think of it as winning to have been the fastest sperm. I don't smile but downwards, my eyelids are droopy, my hair is a mess and I don't plan to get back up after I've fallen. I'm in that endless bottomless pit. Purgatory, void. Can't get rid of myself how hard I tried. Depressed is my middle name.
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