I suppose there could be a trigger warning because later in the chapter I kind of mention very lightly self-harm. Mostly it's me praising Misadventures and talking about feeling numb.

Floral and Fading is honestly such an amazingly sad beautiful song

Misadventures is actually just an amazing sad beautiful album

Or maybe that's just me being sad. I don't know, maybe it's something of a "post-concert depression", but my heart just feels heavy. And like I might cry any moment for no real reason.

Okay, no, Misadventures is actually just very poignantly beautiful. I wish so bad that I could make art like that. I want to write poems and make songs so bad, but I just don't have the inspiration. I don't hurt,  I don't feel. Enough, anyways, and if I do it's for other people. I'm a very empathetic person and sometimes I just wish I could hurt like other people, so I could truly understand it, so I could truly help. And I know this is so wrong, I have the privilege of a good life and I should be thankful, I shouldn't be hoping for something worse.

I don't exactly know what to say, how to say anything. Whenever I light a fuse it just fizzles out too soon. One line isn't enough to tell a story, not for me, I have too much to say. It's times like these I question my aro-ness. I don't know what's it's like to love and to lose, not like that. I remember feeling cold all the way through year seven. I remember watching my friends get with boys, go on dates, develop crushes. I remember getting annoyed when my friend accused me of having a crush when we were little when I barely even knew the boy. I remember feeling almost hurt when people bring up me being promiscuous or having a significant other, even when I know they're joking. I don't ever want to kiss someone, properly, with fireworks and all that, I don't want to ever give anyone my body, I just want to feel. I've been told my whole life that love is the endgame. That marriage and children even are what I should strive for. That sex is something couples do. That it's normal to like-like someone, that it's normal to be curious in that way. I've never been rejected, it still feels awkward telling people. I don't think my parents believed me. My friends are nonchalant, and for that I am thankful, as long as I ignore the joking comments about my relationship status and the opinions of their parents. I just wish it wasn't so awkward telling people who don't even have the right to question me about such things that no, I'm never going to have a boyfriend, or a girlfriend, or a datefriend, or anything. And that they weren't so skeptical. And that they realised yes I may be too young, but that doesn't matter, it's my identity, my body, my choice and if I do ever change my mind there should be no "I told you so"s, no righteousness over knowing me better than myself, because no, in this moment, in the present this is what I feel and it is what I believe I will continue to feel, and no on has the right to impede on this decision, since it wasn't even a decision at all. Studies have shown children will have crushes that correspond with their sexuality if they decide to label it by age 10. All my friends are getting crushes, or have people have crushes on them. Some of them label it, some don't. I don't want anyone to love me, because I'll never be able to love them back. Sometimes though, I do want someone to love me, so I don't have to myself.

It's almost midnight.

It is midnight.

Maybe I should sleep off this unexplainable sadness.

All the lights are going off in my house.

Is this symbolic?

No, it is midnight after all.

There isn't much else to say, after all that. Just that I wish I was more, that I did more, gave more, helped more, communicated more, felt more. Sometimes I don't shower for a week. I don't smell, at least no one complains, and my dad's always on my back about it, but I think he thinks I don't care. And I don't, not most of the time. There are times though, when it gets to me. Especially when he won't talk to me about anything else. When I do take a shower, he'll still get annoyed at me because they're very long or at midnight. I don't like showers, not all the time. It takes a lot. I have to find clothes I don't feel stupid in, and I have to wear at least two layers underneath my actual clothes to not feel naked. I have to face the mirror, I usually close my eyes for that part. I don't know if it's much of a secret I hate my body, or maybe not hate, it just feels wrong. Sometimes burning water help that, except I don't do that often. Usually only to my hands when I feel dirty. I still don't even do that much anymore. I was worse back in year seven.

I get nervous talking about the way I was in year seven, because I know some people will just think of me as another stupid emo twelvie making up problems to seem cool on Tumblr. There's a lot of hate for younger people, and a surprising amount of it comes from 18-25 year olds. That hurts. It does make me feel invalidated as a person who actually matters as a fourteen year old. I don't even know why I was so bad in year seven. Sometimes I do blame it on the internet's influence. I had been unknowingly bad before that though. I remember the distinct feeling of not wanting to exist when I woke up in primary school, but back then I had the willpower to get on with the day and not miss school. I feel guilty every time I miss school without a real reason, and I know my parents don't like it either, but they keep generally off my back. I did a pretty good job of keeping my off days to a minimum until this year, until this term really. For about a month now I've had the thought of not going to school every morning. I wish I could turn it off. I don't really know what to do. I sometimes do that thing again, where I wish I had it worse just for a reason. Sometimes I wish I did have some sort of mental illness, just to explain everything, just so I didn't feel like such a failure, but really it makes me a hypochondriac too. I'm afraid to trust myself anymore, that's the point I've got to. I don't want to draw attention, and if I do ask for help I think I'm just playing into my lie. Maybe I'm afraid I'll be told there's nothing wrong with me and I'm just being stupid again, that I'm just making it all up to feel special. Which maybe I am. It only scares me because it's a possibility.

Everything gets slow when I'm sad. I stop wanting to move, but I don't want to do nothing. I stop wanting to sit in rooms with yellow light, I stop wanting to see, I stop wanting not to see. I start wanting to write a poem about it, but there are no words eloquent enough to describe nothing like it's the first time you fell in love.

I'm sorry for being very down in this chapter, for leaving such a negative atmosphere. I just had to write this down, factually if not in a poem. I hope you all have good days and I love you lots, as much as I can.