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2005-09-07 - 3:02 a.m.

So, I hate these entries, I do. I hate that this is what "the-magus" is reduced to.

This is yet another "I feel suicidal, but maybe not really suicidal, but there's a problem here" entry.

I'm sure some 16 year old without enough hobbies has already used this analogy, but this is one of those times where it feels like I'm screaming for help, and it comes out a whisper.

I feel broken. That's such a 16 year old thing to say, but I just can't understand it. People wonder why I'm here, why I'm making "less than their 16 year old son", why I'm "so talented" but don't send anything out, why I'm "so smart" but don't even have a degree, and the only thing I know is that it's me. I'm the reason. I'm why.

Everyone has advice. I ought to do something, seek councelling, send stuff out, register for this or that, have confidence in myself, stop doubting myself, be myself, discover myself, stop fooling myself.

It's all wise, it's all right. I can't see a flaw in any of it.

I just don't do it.

I feel like I'm on a slow burn to suicide. I didn't have the chance to go out in a blaze of high school glory, to be the teenager that everyone wondered about, to write a poem and hope that it explained everything.

Instead, I'm just waiting for the people I know who care about me to die or lose touch so I don't need to worry about hurting them.

That's so fucking bleak, and I'm crying now as I write this, but it's true. It's not intentional, I don't want it, but I can't reach out by myself.

I hate this entry. I'm so angry at everything. I want to beat myself up. It's all so stupid. It's just stupid.

And tomorrow I'll be just better enough to get by.

Cheers,

the Magus

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