< 1st june >
dear diary,
i've lost talent.
i've finally reached the point where one forgets the things they're the best at, for me it's always been writing, singing and sketching but i can't do those things anymore. it's worse than loosing a piece of yourself because it is loosing your entire self. maybe it's the lack of motivation to do anything but it's happening and i can feel it. i can feel my grip on everything loosing day by day.
today is the start of pride month, so i tried sketching this picture of chuuya from bsd, but i don't think it looks anything like him. i was horrible at doing the shadows (which used to be my fav part about sketching) and i was bad at the coloring. if someone reads this, please don't compare the picture with the "sketch" i'm already insecure enough about it.
another thing i tried doing today was writing poems after a long time and i ended up with two of them, but couldn't make myself finish them. it's like the person who used to do all this long ago is gone and left a vacant spot for whoever i am now.
even at my lowest before, doing all these things that i love was what gave me meaning and kept me sane and i think that if i loose them too i would go feral. being someone who always knew that my mind is a prison, i never imagined that it would end up imprisoning the things that i live for. the letting go of these "talents" makes me feels closer and closer on the edge of holding hands with my bestfriend sleep's cousin. i cannot shake the feeling of it lingering somewhere around, waiting for me to make one wrong move and take me with it forever. as beautiful and appealing as it seems, if i go now too many things will fall apart. i know that and it's the reason why i fight with mortality every single day just like every other human being and resist being sucked into the inevitable. how long can i fight? i don't know, but i've been fighting all my life so i imagine putting up a good last one.
deliriously,
your friend
YOU ARE READING
open scarlet letters
Non-Fiction"we're so young but we're on the road to ruin, we play dumb but we exactly what we're doing we show off, our different scarlet letters" (new romantics, taylor swift) the chronicles of a not very stable person recorded through diary entries. a new a...
