update. i am not okay. yet. · 2:51pm Nov 14th, 2023
the autopsy report came.
it was bad news.
the death wasn’t peaceful.
you know that bit in new moon, the second book in the twilight series. where Bella gets clinical depression because her hot vampire boyfriend moves to Italy to protect her from himself until she gets a hot werewolf boyfriend and then when he leaves her to go do Man Things That She Wont Ever Understand she goes to jump off a cliff so she can get high off adrenaline and see the hot vampire boyfriend’s face again, then her telepathic best friend takes her to Italy to save her boyfriend from Romeo and Juliet-ing himself to flash the pope and get killed by the hot vampire president because by the way hit vampire boyfriend can read everybody’s mind except for the main character his girlfriend aka the special reason why a vampire fell in love with a normal plain boring Mormon girl from Arizona named stephen- bella. yeah that piece of shit. but you know what? the first several chapters were very good. very descriptive. incredibly amazing literary and narrative devices to communicate to the reader just what grief feels like.
October.
November.
December.
January.
February is the first month in several where anything other than literal blank pieces of paper are present. Because that’s all Bella felt those months when her hot vampire boyfriend was gone. All of the months bled together. All of the weeks. All of the days. The hours. The minutes. The seconds. My world is unformed, shrouded by fog. But there is no disparity coming. No fire for my cold. I lost september as well. It is halfway through November. I am using so much weed to escape from reality that if I work stone sober I have an anxiety attack that lasts the entire fucking shift. shit man, I’m high right now! I am losing myself just like he is. And I don’t know when this is gonna stop. I don’t know when the pain is gonna go away. Will it last beyond December? 2024? I don’t fuckin know. I expected to be over this in three days tops but nope no sirreeee it’s gonna keep on truckin beyond all reasonable human comprehension.
at least my thankfully now ex stepmom is a vile cunt sent from hell who showed up to the funeral just to make out with his corpse and try to start a fistfight with my grandma. now I have some inspiration to put into Scootaloo’s motivations. which admittedly are growing cartoonishly evil for the sake of there needing to be a stupid conflict caused by the stupid comic that everybody hates because it’s actually complete shit but we have to all grit our teeth and groan because technically it’s canon. this is fucking dio Brando’s plans, okay, things have to happen exactly the way that they have to happen because otherwise there’s no fucking story. this ain’t a coffee shop au honey, I’m not writing slice of life drivel without a fucking plot, there will be no lyras eating cereal all day ok? and besides. if Sunset was one of my school bullies? I’d be team Scootaloo all day. there’s a few people I wouldn’t mind watching jump off a bridge. while eating popcorn. and cheering because we are only on sunset’s side because I have only showed sunset’s side. but I think I want to delve a little bit deeper. i need a Scootaloo pov flashback. or two. or several. I do have idea to enhance the story. it’s just… staying in my brain for right now.
where it may stay for some time longer.
We're here for you if you need us, Sheena.