5:41am 29/01/2020:
As always after so long, each hiatus the same sentence I repeat: I haven't written in so long. In fact, I no longer write at all. Nor do I speak or act the way I used to. You know- how I aspired to. The kind I believed I would be able to.
It's funny. Of course it always is with me. Am I losing it? Yes, sure. Old in the new? Definitely. Someone else this time? Ah come on, everybody knows Ri. Dejecting. To be typing this. Disappointing, frustrating! Even so I shouldn't be. However it is better here than by mouth. It is better kept, than exposed. Isn't it a bore to admit once again, there is no good that comes out from this blackhole. Is there not at all a truth to come from this tongue? I shall believe not.
Life has been wonderfully unbelievable. I have so much more than I did before albeit here is where I lose myself a bit more. I am writing this a few minutes or a couple of hours into feeling empty. Pointless. Another self made burden. This isn't going to be beautiful. This isn't a writing full of prayer. This is me, in negativity. This is me thinking I should be dead. This is me, plotting my next suicide.
As always after so long, each hiatus the same sentence I repeat: I haven't written in so long. In fact, I no longer write at all. Nor do I speak or act the way I used to. You know- how I aspired to. The kind I believed I would be able to.
It's funny. Of course it always is with me. Am I losing it? Yes, sure. Old in the new? Definitely. Someone else this time? Ah come on, everybody knows Ri. Dejecting. To be typing this. Disappointing, frustrating! Even so I shouldn't be. However it is better here than by mouth. It is better kept, than exposed. Isn't it a bore to admit once again, there is no good that comes out from this blackhole. Is there not at all a truth to come from this tongue? I shall believe not.
Life has been wonderfully unbelievable. I have so much more than I did before albeit here is where I lose myself a bit more. I am writing this a few minutes or a couple of hours into feeling empty. Pointless. Another self made burden. This isn't going to be beautiful. This isn't a writing full of prayer. This is me, in negativity. This is me thinking I should be dead. This is me, plotting my next suicide.
-riri-
