Welcome to my online journal

I wanna write words that mean something someday...

Entry 1

It's 2006 somewhere between July and August. I'm watching movies at my gandmothers house. Sometime soon in the next week maybe I will die and I will not understand why. I look at my younger self. He doesn't know it yet but soon his life will be torn apart. He doesn't know that I will no longer believe in myself or in God. Or that I've dreamed of death more times then I've dreamed of love. That he'll be used up and exhausted by the age of 22. That he'll be beaten within inches of his life and his sanity. But today on a carpet cluttered with toy dinosaurs for him there is a god, and he is happy

Entry 2

Dear mom, You ask me how I'm doing and I let myself lie to you. You know there's more behind my words, but we don't have to talk about it. Mom I'm afraid I'll never feel the love I need from you. I needed you, and I still need you now. With a father so angry I needed a mother, I needed someone wiser and older someone loving. I look at out relationship now; I feel satisfied, and I feel sick I want you to be proud of your son, I want you to know me better, to hear the story of the life I have lived so far. But I cannot fathom bringing those things to your ears. To see the pain in your eyes knowing what your child went through. I am afraid of the person you think I am. I am afraid of disappointing you. I crave your love and embrace but I am also scared of it. I am scared I don't deserve you. I'm scared of you, I cannot imagine a time in my life where I won't need you. Please mom just hold my hand and acknowledge my personhood. Acknowledge my pain without feeling like it's your fault even if some of it is... Please mom for today just hold me, hold your son and know he loves you. Even when he cannot bring himself to love himself

Entry 3

Everything feels fake nowadays. I grew up in the 2000's. I remember watching the world unfold. Feeling like the world was getting more and more conected then ever, as the internet, and accessible knowlege expanded. Now in my twenties I can't help mourn that feeling. We don't even really choose what to watch. Or who to interact with; it's pressed on us by algoithms. Flooded by ads, and bots, on apps that are fundamentally the same. The McDonalds near me has pushed an Ai drive through. Life feels less human; humans are being removed from the human experience. I feel like without my partner I'd go fucking insane.

Entry 4

I will rebuild and make for others what I never had. What I was never allowed. My home will be a home with no yelling fights, no explosive rage, no slamming doors or holes in drywall. No hurtful words or cries that go ignored. My home will be gentle, it will be warm, it will wrap around my loved ones and keep them safe. I have come from a twisted place that threatens to twist me too. But in these ruins I will build a home that is whole, a home that is safe. There's a saying that goes; if you're raised with an angry man in your house, there will always be an angry man in your house. I refuse to let myself become that angry man.

Entry 5

No matter what I do; no matter how far I go to find joy, I instead find my trauma. It speaks to me gently "you will always be this way, I will always be with you. I will make your life miserable, and then I will kill you." It then kisses me sweetly, and I realize im kissing myself in the mirror. Haunted eyes that have memorized the path of tears staring back at me. I am trauma. Every facet of my being has been built around and because of my trauma Not a single part of me can be seperated from the oozing black of the trauma that has spread its tendrils throughout my body. It is apart of me. It is me. I've grown with it, my entire life until now has been surrounded by it. I wonder how long it's been since I've actually been me. I wonder who I could've been.

Entry 6

I wish I could be a little boy again, but I also feel like I still am just a little boy. I didn't get to have the childhood I needed, and now everything I need I've outgrown according to others. I just want a mommy and daddy that love me, that protect me, that care about me. But it can never be. I'm a floating child. No end to my childhood, because I never had one. Endlessly serching for what I could have, and mourning what I can never be.