Here im gonna revist things form when i was a kid and a teen. old diary enteries and memorie. whatever i think of.
When I was in highschool my mother bought me a fish. She said it might teach me a sense of responsibility. It didn't teach me anything. I remember nothing of it. Not its name or how it looked or ever looking at it. I do remember when it died. I was content with the death. I was relieved. I've never feared death. as someone who can see the dead and has seen dead people well I've become numb by it. My mother hasn't and told me I should hold a funeral. I took my old toy shovel and dug a hole. Then I bared the thing and went on with my life. I don't know why I've thought of this. Why is this important? Is it?
Extra: when I was young I lived by a lake. Huge lake. Never was able to make my way around it. But I’ve made it quite close. I was eight at the time and was a massive sleepwalker. I had been since I was four. I had my older brother who would lock all the doors and windows but he was gone. So I got out. I only remember the cold and seeing my knees covered in water. I looked around and saw a house. Thinking it was my mom’s I went up to it. As I grabbed the door handle the lights in the house flicked on. The door flung open and a woman was there. That was not my mom. All I remember was tea. That’s it. I did it again. Sleepwalking. Why?(4c 27 61 70 70 55 6c 20 64 61 20 64 61 20 76 69 64 65)
no pictures here are my own
the goddess of sloth should teach us to take time. You should rest. You should take fair care of yourself. Take a break. I’ve tried taking a break. I try to rest. But instead of resting. I sit and rot. Then things get bad. You’ve heard. So when I work, I try not to move too much. I do most everything on my couch. It’s not comfortable. It’s not fun. It’s hard to know how useless I am. I can’t care for myself. For someone who does nothing all day. I sure am tired. I’m also so tiring aren’t I. I’m so sorry.
Extra:Extra: at night when I was young I would wander into my brother's room to watch him play games. I would do this when I couldn't sleep. When the stress of all around me got too much I couldn't be alone at night. He would talk to me about his day. So I wandered into his room one day. I was laying next to him, the TV light eliminating the room, and he told me he was going to die that night. He told me I could have all his shit when he was gone. He said it so calmly and softly. I found him the next morning. The rest’s a blur.
