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My day started off with this annoying valley girl wannabe in her 40s who wore too much makeup. "Oh twistedfate isn't the president doing a great job?" Annoying ass giggle that sounded like a donkey being stepped on. What the hell are you so happy about you dumb twit?? Look around the price of living is so high that everyone is struggling. The world around is crumbling. There is so much hatred and sensitivity not to mention dumb decisions made. We are in the middle of an economic collapse not to mention probably gearing up for ww3 or a civil war or both. When I said all of that, she looked at me dumbly and smiled. I could see the emptiness in her eyes. I chose to ignore the rest of her questions. There was no way would be able to help educate her in real world basics in the short time I was there. The entire encounter made my head hurt.

I've written most of my confessions. I have only a couple more to write before I log off for good. As I said before, I'm getting my affairs in order. VR is my last loose end. I feel like my life began when I joined this site oh so long ago. It's only bittersweet it should be the last. I'll say goodbye to the last remaining friend I have on here. Although, I'm not really sure what to say to him. I will miss him like I have all these years. We spent many years in silence coexisting by memory only. I had burned a bridge with him many years ago due to my anger. I guess in a strange way, I had wanted him to be my knight in shining armor. To save me from what? I never knew. I just never wanted to let him go. Perhaps he sensed that. We started to rebuild the friendship we once had, but I don't have the time to stick around watching it be rebuilt. As much as it pains me to say. I no longer visit the coven, or even explore other pages. For some reason I still log on just to see if he sent me a new message. So my dear Mr. X if you see this, I'll give you my number of you want. Or my Facebook messenger. I don't do phone calls or video chats anymore. Everything is words typed out. Thanks for showing me a new world various times. I'll miss you. I will try to come up with some sort of goodbye message to you before I leave.

I started smoking cigarettes when I was 14 years old. I didn't do it to look cool like other people my age had. I did it because I was miserable. I had lost everything including my virginity(not by my choice). I had hoped it would have made feel something more. I dated the guy off and on through high school. In the end, I was made a fool in a cruel game. I pined after him for many years overlooking some of the shitty things he had done. Eventually, he showed who he really was deep inside. Now all I feel is disgust. I was so naive. I stopped smoking about 6 years ago. I never think about him anymore. I've tried erasing him completely out of my mind. That's the one thing I don't regret, is walking away indefinitely. Who he is fills me with such disgust and rage. I fuck with my karma wishing bad things were to happen to him. That's the last thing I need is more fucked up karma.

I started drinking when I was 17 although secretly. I wanted to see why everyone had made such a big deal about it. I spiraled out of control for a few years. I've been sober for 15 years now. I tried drugs when I was 18. None of it had any effect on me now matter how hard of drug it was. I quit just after a few months.

I started to hurt myself when I was 16. The world looked so damn bleak, there was no hope for me. I did everything I could think of to hurt myself. Cutting, working so much, not sleeping, not eating, getting involved with people I knew to be dangerous. I was the unattainable for a while. I didn't have any sort of direction and for most of my life I've been just trying to make it through a day at a time. I stopped hurting myself almost 3 years now because of the injury I sustained that forced me to. Now and again I feel so empty, I think about it.

I've conquered so many things. But now my body is held together with tape. Now I just have to keep living as my new conquest. Just a few more years I keep telling myself. But if I'm being really honest, I hope I do get to live a little bit longer. I hate the fact I've made so many mistakes. I tried to follow my heart instead of my head. I tried to run and hide when I should have faced things sooner. I wanted so desperately to have that deep sort of love and connection with someone. I wanted all my kisses to be unexpected. I always hoped someone would just grab me and kiss me until my knees felt weak. Maybe push up against a wall with so much passion it left us both breathless and longing for more.

That sort of thing, doesn't exist. I'm stuck in a frozen relationship with a man who probably takes me for granted. I try to go above and beyond for everyone else, I've been ignoring myself. He is decent enough, just feels empty. There's no passion or romance, no mystery, no longing. It's one daily stress at a time. That's all relationships are. I shouldn't be wanting something more. What could I possible want that's real in this world?

It's been a long couple of weeks, I am stressed, buried under a financial weight that's drowning me, and the depression I fought so hard to disappear keeps rearing it's ugly head. I keep trying to tell myself, things will get better. It's false hope. But it's all I got.

More hoops to jump through. Gotta find the time. Hopefully all the tests show nothing cancerous. Now it's a waiting game.

I hope today goes ok. The surgery has already been delayed. I just got to stay positive. Time to go digging in the vault where I hid my confidence.

Friday starts the first appointment to my 2 surgeries. One is less risky the 2nd one yeah that one is risky. The less risky one is first. To correct a problem done by previous doctors and shitty genes. I just don't have the time to heal properly. But then again when have I ever? This world doesn't care if you are patching yourself together with glue and hope. The 2nd one is a longer heal time trying to correct the injury. I admit I've put my body through hell and back. I worked full time at a young age, fought all through college, worked 120 hours a week for multiple jobs, multiple car accidents that weren't my fault, the abuse done to me either by my hand or someone else took more of a toll than I ever thought would. If I had to do it all over again would I change anything? Probably not, I wouldn't be the fiery soul that I am today. I'm not superwoman as much as I push myself to be. I know that someday sooner or later I'll die. Another reason to leave this journal behind. No one but one person may know my true identity on this site. You'll never put my words to my face or my name. My name is becoming relatively popular. At least when I die someone can read all about me, maybe it will give them strength. The way I die will probably be from something stupid considering all that I've survived from already. It will probably be my body just shutting itself down when I no longer have the glue and hope to put myself back together again. My relatives I've grown to hate think God has some sort of great mission for me. God isn't here anymore if he actually existed. Honestly, I never thought I would live past the age of 18. Here I am well past that about to have another birthday. Death doesn't scare me and half the time I can't decide if it all worth it in the end. Yet, everyday I get up pushing myself past the point where I can't repair myself. I keep going. Everyday I remind myself just a few more years is all I really need. Time isn't a luxury for someone like me.
I'm not a vampire. I am human as far as I know that can do certain capabilities. I do eat bloody meat to bring my body up to where it functional again. I get too sick if I go too long without doing so. I can't be in the sun because I'm so pale. Besides I've never really been a day person. I enjoy the night but not in the summer time.

I have an expiration date. I've begun to get my affairs in order. Mr. A laughed at me. He asked me why I was preparing for something I didn't know the date for. Because I am on borrowed time. It's only a matter of time. Better to be prepared than to leave this hell for my next one and leave the few people I care about in this world alone.

Mr. A is frustrating. It's like dating a robot morphed into a human body. I thought after all this time I would be able to at least penetrate his icy, robotic heart, but that hasn't been the case. At least not I am no longer fighting for my life. In this world can't have everything. Everything comes at a price.

I guess I have a lot on my mind tonight since this is my third entry. Bits and pieces of my past suddenly washed over me like someone who threw a cup of alcohol in my face. For a brief second my mask tilted and the real me was poking through. Not that anyone noticed? Why would they? I've gotten to be great at lying about who I am and what I'm capable of. I used to have this urge to get out and socialize with people I thought were my friends. It could have been because I wanted to escape so I felt restless. The last time I hung out with anyone who I wasn't dating was years ago in middle school. I liked this boy so much. I loved how his eyes sparkled when he was laughing with his friends. My so called friends stole my diary and read the parts about me liking the boy. I'm sure they didn't read all of it or they would have had to call social services. They were so giggly that day and for once I thought I truly belonged. Lol. What a joke. So they waited until it was pep rally time and announced do the entire school I wanted to have sex with the boy I had a crush on. I wasn't thinking about sex nor did I write anything like that in my diary. Everyone was laughing so the guys stands up grabs the microphone and says to the entire school "I wouldn't date you if you were the last person in all the galaxies. There's not enough paper bags to go over your face!"

He had called me ugly and dumb even though I had skipped a grade and was the youngest in my class. That bothered me a little bit, I had already grown to hate myself by that point. What hurt was not only did the students laughed, but the entire staff did as well. I broke down. I wanted to hurt everyone. So I ran out of the gym. My school had chunks of marble that looked like it had been slapped on so it wouldn't go to waste. I think they were supposed to be handrails of some sort.Every wall had them right in the center.

I scarred up my hands badly on that day with the chunks of marble. I was so angry I remember going into a full on trance and I just kept hitting the wall where the biggest chunks of marble stood out. I was later found a couple hours after everyone had gone home sitting in a hallway ducked into a corner. I had sobbed myself to sleep. The principal thought someone else got into a fight with me and tried to call for an ambulance. My hands were swollen and had bled all over the wall and floors. As he tried to help me up he snickered. Probably not intentionally. So I lied. I told him my mother was on her way to take me to the hospital.

I stood up, went to my locker chucked everything in it then walked home. When I got home my half brother was over at a friends house. He was the favorite so he always got to leave whenever he wanted. I wasn't allowed to leave the yard unless it was to walk to work or to school.my stepdad#1, my abuser, was gone. And my mother had run off. Her mental state wasn't the best. I didn't know how to help her back then. I bandaged my hands after cleaning off all the blood. I should have gotten stitches in a couple of places. I wrapped my hands in gauze then tapes them like fighters do.

When the abuser finally came home days later, he saw my hands. Didn't bother to ask what had happened. Said," oh you want to be a fighter huh? I will train you. You now will have to fight for everything. Your paychecks, your food, and anything else you need. You won't eat if you don't fight." He at first used to pit me against my half brother. But he always ran off with his friends. So the abuser brought his friends over to fight. All older men. I fought until I knocked them out or vice versa. If they knocked me out, I didn't get to eat. The abuser would smack me with a thin metal ruler on my stomach calling me too fat. I wasn't by any means I was so skinny you could see my bones.

I don't know why the memory popped up. I think it's because I heard the guy I had liked is really heavily into drugs. Turns out he grew up to be a shitty person.

I remember when I was about 10 years old I got dropped off with my little brother at an aunt's house. My little half brother played with my aunt's son since they were close to the same age. I was locked outside during summer. It was so hot and I burned badly from the sun. The only way I could stop burning was to climb up a cherry tree. I laid in the tree for three days. I ate the cherries from the tree. I ate so many cherries I got sick. Then I fell from the tree bruising six of my ribs badly. It was then I got to get back into the house. I so sunburned my skin scarred in places. I was sick and dehydrated. Worst thing about it was I was able to eat some bread and take a drink of water before I had to leave. No one bothered to wish me a happy birthday or help with the sunburn. I was ignored the entire way home.

Well I emptied out the rest of my savings. I knew I would have to eventually. Now I'm living the American dream. I'm in debt with several loans. Just when I think I've crawled up from this hole, more struggles come my way. At least I'm trying to make a name for myself and trying to stay off the streets. I'm giving this life everything I have to keep myself from drowning.

My biological father family emailed me. Oh because of what you do, you're a horribly cursed person. Oh we are praying for you. Really? Why don't you save your prayers for someone who needs them? Why waste them on me. I'm not going to heaven by any means, if such thing existed. I have developed a sense of hatred for the entire side of my family. My biological father was cruel and tried to kill me several times. Saying I was an evil child. He was abusive to my mother when all she did was protect me. As far as I'm concerned he was merely a sperm donor before he died. I hate that his family think they have to degrade me.

I need a Geumganggo. I watched Korean Odyssey and absolutely fell in love with it. I hate romance movies but this one was different. It was complex. Once again the yearning hit. It would be nice to find deep love like that. But humans are flawed there is no such thing. All I have are my dreams, that is how I connect to people one way or another. I had to put a limiter on myself however. I started to enter peoples dreams whom I had never met. They found me, begging me to stop. I was a monster to them. I didn't realize I was doing anything at all. I felt badly for hurting them. So I limit myself. I may be a monster but in all fairness I don't like hurting people who don't deserve it. Dreams mean a lot to me, it's my way of communicating with people. Dead or alive. Magical or non magical. Human or monster.

Anyways, I have to try to sleep. I haven't slept in a while, the whites of my eyes are red. Im scaring the neighbors.

On days like this, how do I resist the urge to cut everything I hate within me? I want to stab at my heart, cut away all the bad. Cut away all the pain. Unfortunately, all the kitchen knives are fucking dirty and dull. There's nothing special about me. I don't know why I keep thinking there is.

I haven't been sleeping. I'm going on day 6 with two hours of sleep. My head hurts. Maybe this weekend I will finally be able to sleep. I hate taking the medicines to force myself to sleep. It doesn't feel natural but then again nothing I do for my well being does anymore. I'm not looking forward to the surgeries. I've done everything I can possibly think of to avoid it. I don't think that's much an option anymore. It's aggravating. I don't have the time to heal properly.

I finished another project. This one I poured more of my soul into it than I had intended. I don't talk about my past except for on here. Whenever I am asked I either divert the question or I'll make up something normal sounding. No one would believe how much I have had to fight throughout my life. I wear my mask well. Hopefully, no one will notice the bits and pieces of my soul in the project.

2022 has been such a shitty year. Not just personally but in everything else as well. I am not political. I choose not to watch the news or vote because the human design is flawed. I can't support anyone that I don't trust and know they will make costly mistakes. I choose to stay neutral. My opinion ultimately doesn't matter to politics. We are all pawns in a war between who has the biggest dick. It's irritating. First the virus and everyone getting sick. Luckily I never caught it. Then everything went up in price. The price of living doesn't match the price someone gets paid for living. It's Hell. No question about it. But I love getting people who try to save my soul or convert me to their religion. Why don't you use that energy for someone else? I've accepted my place in Hell. Why on Earth would I still be alive if this wasn't my own personal hell? My only human interaction in a week was with a woman arguing with me in the middle of a grocery store about my soul. So I started speaking in another language to her. Got her real confused and flustered. Then, I leaned in towards her and whispered my soul was fine it was hers she needed to save. Then I did my monster thing that tends to scare people. She took off running so fast she smack a side display. Lol the look she gave me was priceless. She acted like I was the devil. Lady, if I were the devil I do believe I wouldn't be struggling as much as I am right now. What ignorance.

I am a hopeless romantic at heart. I love surprises, and romance. I love those sweet words about how much I mean to someone. I know because in my waking life, there's not much of that. I can't even bring myself to watch romance movies it just makes me yearn for something that's not possible for a monster like me. I made a mistake of watching a romance tonight. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, just made me realize how lonely I am yearning all the time.

Sure my journal is filled with my deepest darkest thoughts. They are going go come off as whiny, superficial, and pitiful. These are my thoughts and memories I've never told a soul. My family doesn't really know me honestly. I hide behind a mask just enough to keep from being locked away in an asylum. Yes, I have issues, I have my demons who torture me on a daily basis, I have regrets. Writing gives me the freedom to finally express something. In my waking life, I'm a closed book. I don't trust more than 4 people. I don't express my feelings or my thoughts. Those aren't for the waking world. My thoughts are dark and twisted. They have to be. Being this way has been my key to my survival all these years. I pretty much expect the worst from people. Maybe I'm not really alive, maybe I've died and this is my punishment. For a while I tried to make up for the bad shit I've done. If I'm being honest, I don't think God or satan or whoever cares. Whatever is after death I'm pretty sure it's just a new cycle of hell. I wasn't trying to get a ticket to heaven by trying to make up for the shit I've done. I wasn't even doing it for my conscience. I just no longer wanted to be the monster I've become.

I find myself daydreaming quite a bit. It's weird when I was a kid I never day dreamed, I couldn't afford to think of anything but my survival. Now things are different than my past. I imagine meeting my favorite celebrities, mostly singers. Then I lose the battle with myself. What if one day I meet someone who is considered to be an elite and they tell me to hide where no one can see me? Would they laugh at my appearance? If I felt pretty enough to catch someone's eye would it just be them trying to be nice? It's been 6 years since anyone called me ugly. I still hate looking at myself in the mirror. Then I find myself day dreaming I became prettier, skinnier, stronger and smarter. Would I still be treated like I don't belong in this world? Why is it a battle to accept the fact that I'm 36 years old and won't be catching anyone who is important attention. I been having weird dreams it keeps bringing up pain from my past. I feel my old insecurities creeping back into mind. How do I stop?

I've got my first out of 2 surgeries coming in July. At this point I feel like a medical experiment gone wrong. Hopefully, I'll be healed enough for my birthday. I never want much for my birthday. I never ask for presents. I never ask to do anything special. I just feel like it's just another day for me. Nothing special ever really happens on my birthday. I spent my childhood never really getting presents. My high school years I bought myself anything. I always hope I'll have a surprise from out of this world. I realized today I daydream wishing I was someone important, someone the world would call pretty and elite. Sure this domesticated life is just fine. But deep down inside I've always hoped a man in an expensive suit would just show up one day. Just for one day I would special and super important. I hate that I am injured and although I'm trying to patch myself up as I can with each day it's not getting better. In a way I suppose it adds to my demons gnawing away at my mind.

Maybe one day things will be different and I will finally be happy with who I've grown to be.

Sitting in the silence of a waking nightmare
Should I listen, should I care
What if it's true
And that was my only clue?
Do I travel deeper within my mind
Hoping for a new answer that is kind?
Should I sleep
Pray for my soul to keep
Images now burned
Stomach churned
Take a deep breath
I'm not with death
It's just a dream
And nothing is what it seems

I dreamt of you today. It's been a while my dear friend. Thanks for checking in on me when I feel forgotten to the world. Our dream gateway has always been strong and you're the only one I have that connection to. Just a fading memory of our time spent talking when I was alone and angry at the world.