18:01 Oct 04 2025
Times Read: 13
So here you are again, preaching from your keyboard pulpit about distance, depression, and drama, but somehow still dragging me into your sermon. You keep saying you’re “too tired” for relationships, that people are suffocating you, that you’re pulling back for your own mental health… and yet you write another public entry with my shadow stretched all over it. If I’m so irrelevant, why am I still the ghost in your journal? If I’m out of sight, why am I still in your mind?
You talk about blocking features like they’re exorcisms, as if the button itself purifies your life, but you don’t block you broadcast. You don’t disappear—you announce. Every time you log in, you light a beacon saying “Look at me. Look at how above it all I am.” For someone who claims they want peace, you sure know how to keep the circus tent pitched.
And that whole “I tried to warn others about certain people” routine? Please. That’s not a warning, that’s a smear campaign dressed up as public service. You’re not the selfless saint shielding innocents you’re the rumor mill who gets off on being the whisper that poisons the well. You don’t want to be an inspiration; you want to be the center of the tragedy.
You even snitched on yourself when you wrote about the House kicking you out. “I wasn’t told what I did. I have suspicions.” You don’t need suspicions you just showed everyone. You burn bridges, rewrite the narrative, then stand on the ashes with a halo, wondering why the crowd moved on. Jealousy? No. People are simply tired of you spinning the same victim story every season and calling it growth.
You claim you don’t want to carry other people’s problems. Here’s the truth you choke on: no one asked you to. You pick them up because it gives you leverage. Because it gives you a moral high ground to stand on while you talk about how tired you are. That’s not empathy, that’s manipulation disguised as martyrdom.
And now you’re handing out mental health diagnoses “you need counseling” while you openly admit you’re depressed and overwhelmed. Pot, meet kettle. If anyone needs therapy, it’s the person who can’t stop writing essays about people they’ve “cut off” but still can’t stop feeding on.
You’re not suffocated. You’re addicted to the drama, the pity, the sympathy of strangers. And when it runs out, you write another entry, stir another pot, aim another dagger at the latest villain. You’re not out of sight, out of mind you’re right here, center stage, playing the victim of your own show.
So, by all means, keep talking about “distance.” Keep posting about your noble withdrawal while dropping my name between the lines. But remember this: you’re not tired of people. You’re tired of mirrors. Because every time you look into one, you see exactly what you accuse everyone else of being.
And you know what? I don’t even have to lie. Because… hell, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.
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