Well, I wasn’t able to post a few weeks.
But… noone seemed to miss me, so I think it’s okay.
Last few days I thaught of starting something like a personal blog since I’ve written the text below, and I think, I’m gonna do that, well, kind of personal, I don’t want to put my whole fuckin life in here, but well, we’ll see.

First of all, I want to post a picture of my cuts. Don’t ask me why, I think, it’s cause of the pictures I saw here and I wanted to put something back? Sounds stupid, and it is, I think, but well… It’s not because I’m attention seeking or something. Judge me or not, I don’t care.

You know what? I simply do not undertand people. So often, they overreact. So often, they are blind. It’s no matter what I look at. It’s all the same. All the reactions are predictable. You reblog a post where a girl announces her suicide? Okay. Did you care about her before? Do you even notice a person near suicide? It’s pointless. I think, you could retrace every fucking problem in the world because of people reacting too late. People don’t think about others till it’s too late. And once it’s too late, once it’s really clear that everything is lost, you pretend like you care. You’re all like ‘how should we now?’ There was no sign, right? You were blind. You were caring about yourself. But as it’s too late, all of you are there. It’s like these authors, philosophists, scientists which weren’t managed at lifetime, but as they died people managed that these people made something great in their lifetime. These people never got the honour about their work, because you were blind.

You may ask why I’m writing this. Cause I wondered, when were gonna be someone who is caring. Not because of posting suicide notes or because of being great at something. I wish it’d be enough to be myself to be worth something. But it’s not. It simply isn’t. With a mother changing my bedclothes with spots of blood on it, saying nothing. With a father calling me two times a year to ask for help, helping him while he’s laughing about depressions. Classmates seeing me nearly broken every day, not even asking what happened or how I am. Because it’s normal to everyone. I’m used to it, I’m always broken, I’m always negate. That’s how I am, there’s nothing special about this. So you don’t have to care.

The point is. I have accepted this. Really. Because I’m like that, too. I don’t have the energy to care about someone else, there’s nothing I care about. So I don’t have the right to ask for something, do I? It’s no one’s fault. Cause it’s how it works. The one’s can stand life, others don’t.

This is not a suicide note. This is not me asking for attention, I don’t want it. You may think this is an indirect way to ask for help. It’s not. I don’t want it. I don’t want your hypocritical caring words. And I don’t even think that this post gonna get notes or something. Because no one cares. Because this life has nothing to give. Because the only thing people are doing is destroying you. It’s all about surviving. And there’s no chance to win. The only question is: “Do you want to end your life by yourself or are you going to fight till you’re completely exhausted, out of energy?” I think, the second thing is… better? I dunno.

Goodbye.