I can sleep, but I forgot how it feels to be well rested. I can breathe, but I’ve forgotten how to inhale. I could go to school, but I forgot how to be a student. I would be happy, but I don’t remember how. I can live, but where’s the fun in that? Existence is exhausting, and I don’t see the point in partaking of it.
I thought college would make me feel better, but as the TikTok psychics say, the algorithm changed my mind; all I see are college students suffering and dealing with the same problems I have, except it’s worse because now they’re expected to act like adults and be mature about it. Be mature about a society that fucking kills our friends—in schools, malls, parking lots. Be mature about a world that believes we can be successful as long as we retain an education, even at the costs of our mental health. Be mature about my shitty life, directly from childhood; mature about the constant sadness I’ve been exposed to since my conception. Be mature about the never ending oppression minorities will face, the oppression I’ve been a victim of.
In conclusion, I’ve never been fucking happy. Truly, genuinely happy. I really don’t remember the last time I’ve felt that particular emotion for more than a day. I don’t know if that said “time” even exists in my past, let alone my future. I’m supposedly so young, but I feel older than my peers. Older than most of the adults in my life. I feel like I’ve aged past my expiration date. There’s so much I could have experienced, yet I feel as though I’ve had enough. I don’t want to experience anything else.
Okay, in a non poetic-depressed-teenager-angst style, I just wanted to rant, and a lot of my rants come out in pieces… specifically like you’ve (maybe, if you’re actually here) read above.
Also, I don’t mind what people try to comment, if anyone does! Even if it’s in the form of support. I just didn’t want to bother others with the thought of having to help another internet stranger, so I didn’t choose that category.