21 May 2022

Starting this diary.
I am hoping to be consistent, which is unlike anything in my life.
I'm spending my day entirely in bed today.
I'm upset with my family.
I woke up late and ate a cheap breakfast.
I haven't eaten anything since.
Friends are trying to publish a paper. I might collaborate.
Searched extensively for "Magolpy/Maman"... Where did she even go?
I feel sick, my stomach is growling, and my mouth is salty.

Finally, I went and watered the plants. As requested by a neighbor, I contributed to checking the cams for a troublemaker.

I ate some puffed rice but no condiments.

Dinner and then sleep! Uf.

I guess it doesn't bother me. I can't be bothered with anything these days. Whatever. Maybe tomorrow. Shrug. My mind is like a bunch of nothing, but so it goes. Today was a complete loss. What can I say? I've just been hanging out doing nothing. That's how it is. My mind is like a void. I just don't have much to say, but such is life. Oh well. Such is life. Basically, nothing is going on right now. I guess it doesn't bother me. I've pretty much been doing nothing worth mentioning. Eh.

I am hoping for a way out, like every other day.

Today's Mood: spiritless, dispassionate, neutral.

- Oizys.

Threat To My Thoughts

I feel useless after I talk to people. I have so many of these thoughts that I want to write, share, voice and scream. But, when I make them known to the world outside of my mind, give them a voice for others' ears, and let them into the minds of others, they vaporize into nothingness. They go away. They become hollow. They become meaningless. And, I can feel the emptiness loud and clear. It feels like someone stepping into a room and crashing into a handful of empty vessels, making a cracking noise.

What is it? Is it that I am only my thoughts? I am made up of only my thoughts. Is it me who is just a vessel and these thoughts fill me and make me who I am? Or, is it me who keeps my thoughts alive? And, is the presence of my thoughts only of substance when it is unknown to other beings? Do other people just consume and spit out my thoughts like plucking away weed?

I fear writing sometimes, to pen my thoughts down. For, if people read, my thoughts extinguish into non-existence. Then, where do I put you, my thoughts? We are safe nowhere but in this mind of mine.

- Oizys.