5th of August 2020,

The companionship of melancholy made me imagine all the potential worst or at least the kind I fear the most. I have unnecessarily lived portions of those already. So with my delusions, denial, forgetfulness, cowardliness, immaturity and stupidity, I pass each hour. It is not a mere continuous feeling of sadness. It is much more malicious than that. It leaves enough malign hope to strike harder, to mislead. It distracts me then haunts me down. The hopeful images of a better future are dull, tinted with flagrant deceit and treachery. I am ashamed to write what's going on. There is nothing to be proud of. Besides, it goes against what I am surviving upon, denial. I have torn every piece of myself into small pieces then tore them again into smaller pieces. Now, I hear voices in my head. They remind me of all the darkness, what I did just as what I did not, those I loved and left, those I should love but only hurt, disappointments, regrets, scars. I shout "Stop!" out loud to hush them down. "Stop!" is all it takes to silence them for now. Meanwhile, I drown myself in meaningless nothingness because I cannot do anything else. Saving myself gives me anxiety.