I don't want to write, anymore

Not that anyone cares. Not that anyone who knows or think they know me understand the weight of those words in the horrific way they translate to me.

...Where to begin in a...slightly...more mature way...

*Inhales*

I feel...as if I'm having some sort of...reverse-epiphany. A horrible, dawning realization that has been taunting me for two decades. It doesn't make this any easier.

I've never been so lost before. The one thing that I thought I knew I wanted to do, the one thing that I could always fall back on when sad, depressed, angry, tired...the one thing that encapsulated my whole being. The one thing that defined me. The one thing I always called myself in some sort of half-proud way. The one thing I knew I was meant to do, even if I wasn't good at it. The one thing I kept on doing, even if I wasn't good at it. The one thing no one—not even I—could stop me from doing, no matter what I was doing, where I was, what I had.

...I get it, alright...

You don't know me. You probably just barely glance over all of the shit I've ever posted in all my 11 years online. All you really notice is that I am, indeed, immature, probably selfish, and...whatever. But I am supposed to know who I am, god-fucking-damnit.

I don't know who I am, anymore.

And no one seems to care.

I live with someone who so easily saps the life right out of me. I admittedly have such a low self-esteem, I find my reaching out to family and friends who have actual lives to be...intrusive. Painfully, extremely so. Criminal, even. Irrationally so.

So I don't.

...

I don't to write, anymore.

...Never in my...existence...as a human being did I ever believe I would say such a thing.

I'm in shock, right now.

Numb but choked up, and yet...unfeeling at the same time.
...

I'm going to take some time to...possibly remove my presence from the internet. Somehow. Delete...a lot of accounts I've had for...a long time. There's no point, anymore. There was always an end goal. That end goal was...Project DV, and through it, Project PHE. PHE. My fucking baby. A sort of extension of all that I physically, mentally embody. It's all fucking useless, now.

Have I been going at this all wrong...?

I spent the past 20 years of my life wasting my time. So...so many ideas...Meaningless.

So goodbye, PHE. Goodbye, Tales by the One Who Knows. Goodbye, fanfiction.

Goodbye, me.

I hated you.

But I always hoped your writing would mean something, in the end.

BBTxx Update | 2k17 Life

Firstly, for the first time in three years, I have made an entry at the Boxx. It is the longest thus far. And it gets a bit into my personal history with writing. I have a strong...and long...and trying history with writing. I look back on it, and...

Well, anyway.

So, more of Nanatsu no Taizai. It is times like these that really make me wish I...just...had people to talk to about the things I'm interested in. The things that make my eyes sparkle, my voice rise with elation and...my heart to squeeze. I've been busy on AO3 since maybe Thursday, thoroughly engrossed and obsessed with all things related to NnT and, of course, Ban the Immortal~

A photo posted by Mar Qaroll (@blaque.margin) on Jan 9, 2017 at 7:04am PST

This is pretty much my last purchase for...ever. But we'll not get into my financial situation...

My new fic is called The Four Last Things. I have an astonishing, groundbreaking, record-breaking NINE CHAPTERS uploaded and I have two more already finished! But...today is my last day submitting a chapter for a while, because, as I knew it would happen eventually, my steam is running out. I am losing confidence. But the Boxx explains more of that...

As for 2k17 itself...well...

It's been almost a month since I left my job. It's already becoming something I...wish I knew how to handle better. Well, it always was. I'm trying. I know I need to fight against myself even harder. I wish I could just...fucking kill off this pathetic side of me. I really do, and those who know would know I mean it.

It's not much, but I have kept an eye out for jobs, again. The very thought of repeating the process of the 8-hour void for days at a time makes me tremble, my eyes water...

So the small sliver lining is passing, turning to grey before the black sets in, again...

Dear 2017...

I was solemnly going to try (try, damnit, because even I know it's not so easy) to kill myself today after a short, sad night crying myself to sleep.

Then I remembered I had an appointment with my therapist and grudgingly decided against it. For whatever.

And then this:

A photo posted by Mar Qaroll (@blaque.margin) on Jan 3, 2017 at 6:06pm PST

...

So here I am.

Nanatsu no Taizai has too quickly become one of my top favorite—because I don't have a "top insert-number-here" for anything—manga. And, for the first time in forever, top favorite anime, thus far. I have to keep myself from watching it again, especially nearly any scene with Ban. Damn you and your somehow impurely pure heart, Ban.

...Anyway...

Back home. Back in the cold and the anxiety and the self-doubt and the self-hate.

Oh, right, this is a "New Years" blog entry.

Righto.

I've been writing the next chapter to my Bleach fanfic, Echoup de theatre: Cache, for the past two days. Hopefully it'll be up on FF.net soon...So far I like it...not impressively so, but enough. I guess.

I only have a little bit of money (that I already spent on the items above...and more) left that actually belongs to me, that I fought for. It will not last long with my mentality. I am a person who spends money the more depressed I become. Oh wait...

Yeah.

Aaand...

I made a new Tumblr for reblogging and fandom-gasming and...things that aren't mine, I guess.

...Aaand...

...

I got fatter.

...

Yay.

2k17 is here.