they’ve barely been home for an hour and he’s already stormed off mad because i’m not a mind reader
[[MORE]]there were genuinely dead fuckin ass Two Minutes left in my laundry cycle then i would have been gone, but i guess he just hates me so much that he just couldn’t wait
what do i even do ? i guess i’ll just vanish in my own home again
at least my room doesn’t feel like as much of a prison now that it’s cleaner , it’s just so disappointing - i thought things would be different
i’ve gotten a lot done today , but i hate being sober || i feel like a robot who’s running out of tasks to complete
[[MORE]]i feel like i should take a break because i haven’t eaten anything today and i really am running out of things to do, but the thought of eating anything rn makes me feel gross, and i know if i don’t do any drugs i just won’t eat today
i feel like i should commence some grand disappearing act - everyone i know is busy with their own lives as they should be !! so i don’t think anyone would notice/care if i just dipped :/
i’d still leave the queue running bc i currated this bitch to the gods, but after that? who’d need me ? nobody even needs me here - this is a self serving account
I felt very bad yesterday.
As my high school is over and now I will be going to university, my mother decided to give half of her housework, all little housework done by brother and whatever I do, all to me. She says that now I am old enough to do all housework and as my brother will be entering high school, he needs to focus only at studies.
I raised a question.
My brother is now at mid teenage, he have passed the age when I was forced to cook whole meal, clean house, dishes, laundry and even all the participation in rituals which I believed were what pleases the god.
Yes, I was 13 when I was being trained to be a woman.
They laughed at me. It felt as if I have said something stupid. They said that those weren’t full meals and i don’t know anything about kitchen atall. I heard my father laugh as if it was a very childish question.
They said that those are not for boys so I should stop always pulling my brother in between.
I want to scream and tell them, that I want to die. I just have a last hope to be free, if not I will die. If they fear about me being a failure in marriage, that day will never come. I assure you, I will never marry for your HONOR!
“Drinking to dull my ache for you. It never stops. It is infinite. There’s not a moment of refuge. I see you and I want you. I see you and my body stills while waves crash inside my chest. I want to beg. Desperately. It’s unbearable. I can’t lie. I think of us together. I do. I want to kiss your neck, and I want to hug you so tight. I want to know more. I want to know the depths of your soul—and that, my god, is the worst part of it all.”
She [my mother] thinks the worst thing in the world is seeing me die. Maybe it is for her sake; that’s one less person she can chew up into pieces and spit back out. For my sake, I think it would feel more like tax relief; temporary, unsatisfying ease. A deduction from your prejudice, but doesn’t it just follow me into the next life, too? Won’t you always come back to remind me?
lone pine poetry, excerpt from Annotating: I’m Sorry I’ve Been Gone. I Don’t Fucking Feel Real.
I don’t know what’s happening to me, and I don’t think I want to find out. Maybe my mother is right. Maybe I am dying, and maybe this is my funeral. Fine, then. Get it over with. She wouldn’t know how to mourn me correctly either way.
lone pine poetry, excerpt from Annotating: I’m Sorry I’ve Been Gone. I Don’t Feel Fucking Real.
I don’t know how to live without it [smoking] right now. I don’t know how to live at all right now.
lone pine poetry, excerpt from I’m Sorry I’ve Been Gone. I Don’t Feel Fucking Real.
I’M SORRY I’VE BEEN GONE. I DON’T FEEL FUCKING REAL.
I watch the muddy water fall into the drain and I think, “it’s so weird to be alive.” The physics. The existence.
I don’t feel fucking real. But my mother tries to convince me I’m dying anyway. “What if you knew a doctor wouldn’t save you because you harmed your body on purpose, and did something as stupid as smoking, or taking testosterone ‘as a woman,’ would you still do it anyway?”
She didn’t say it directly to me. She didn’t have to. She said it to my sister. I was only two feet away. I knew who it was for.
“We’re the ones who will suffer the consequences,” she said. As in, “Becoming yourself will kill you in the end, and we’ll be the ones who lost what we could have had if only you had choked yourself down into something palatable for our small-minded mouths.”
As if I have any control over the circumstances. I would rather die as me than nothing at all. Nobody seems to understand that. I am not God. I am your son. I am your brother.
My dad tore down my grandma’s old shed today. She’s been dead for seventeen months. I watch the roof cave in and something inside me goes right along with it. I used to hide in there as a kid. Hide-and-seek with my sisters and a very much alive grandma inside the house, which still smells exactly like her somehow.
And you’d be so disappointed in me, but I’ve been chainsmoking in my car again because it’s yet again the only thing that makes me feel alive. I should stop. My throat is hurting, and I’m running out of time. I don’t know how to live without it right now. I don’t know how to live at all right now.
But I finally brought Fish home, the stray cat at my parents’ house. And I watch my other cat’s whole world turn sinkhole as she has to get used to a new way of living. We never knew how to let anything else close.
I keep reminding her I still love her. I know what abandonment feels like. I swear I’m not abandoning you.
Anyway, I’m sorry I’ve been gone. I don’t feel fucking real. And all I have to offer right now is my tobacco-stained hands and shit poetry that feels like it’s been rotting inside my bones.
lone pine poetry, I’m Sorry I’ve Been Gone. I Don’t Feel Fucking Real (02/28/26)
huh my back and shoulders are very sore (to the surprise of no one) and my knee won’t stop hurting?
and everytime i move i can feel the muscle on the bone and everytime o sit i cant get comfortable because my back will
ache
I ache.
I ache for the love I couldn’t have.
I ache for the body they didn’t want.
I ache for the person I know I can become.
I ache for freedom,
Success,
Joy,
Laughter.
I ache for the basics in life….
Please. Let me out of this house.
Please….
