If I told anyone how I felt, at times, what would they say?
I want to tear apart my own body.
I want to ruin my body.
If it looked intentional, I'd be ashamed.
I don't want anyone to know. I want to pull myself apart like a threadbare washcloth. I wouldn't be able to explain why to anyone. It's just how I feel.
I was thinking today that nothing, no one, has any inherent value. Every person on the planet is fundamentally worthless. But the beauty of having no inherent worth is that you can assign an arbitrary worth to yourself.
I thought this after failing a math exam and getting a green tea that didn't have the matcha stirred in properly.
Then I sat outside and thought about how lucky I had been to go college, even though I didn't have the money for it.
Then I thought about how badly I fucked up college.
Then I took some photos of a feral cat.
I don't think I have any worth at all. I don't know who would ever assign a value to me- or even that I had forfeited any value that could have ever been assigned to me when I failed to live up to the expectations of the people who assigned the value.
And so I also thought about a spike through my back, swift and smooth, pushing my arm out of its socket and maiming me.
And it was a comforting thought.