I dead ass hope a car hits me tmr otw to school so I can skip Chinese exam cause I just know I’m gonna fail ✌🏻 I’m currently in the process of trying to memorise 107 words by tmr 7am yay!
I feel so lost sometimes. why am I here? Who put me here? Am I purposely negligent to 'God'? Why did I have to born with this awful skin, and not fur or scales? Why was i born this way. Every inch of my soul yearns to be part of the earth, I yearn to rot and decay, to give back what I selfishly stole from nature. What is the point of living if im ment to be part of the machine. Its always a weird fantasy that no one seems to understand, wanting to just, go. I dont want to die, but I dont want to live. I feel guilty for existing and waisting what mother nature has blessed me with. Ill probably regret writing this later, feel silly when my emotions are in order.
Belinda. I was 15. Bebo was life. Facebook was new. I made a fake account and called her Belinda. Borrowed the name, borrowed the face, borrowed a whole person I wasn’t. Last login: September 2008. It’s been 17 years. I got curious today. Wondered if Facebook deletes inactive accounts by itself. Wondered if Belinda got wiped. Turns out: no. Facebook doesn’t clean house. Accounts just sit there. Digital fossils. I don’t remember the email. Don’t remember the password. Don’t even remember what fake last name I gave her. She’s locked in there, and I don’t have the key. And that’s fine. I could report her as fake. I could send letters to Meta. I could chase a ghost from 2008. But why? She’s not me. She’s not tied to Maryam. She can’t hurt me. She can’t embarrass me. She’s just a timestamp of who I was at 15: bored, curious, trying on identities like clothes at the mall. 2008 Belinda stays in 2008. 2026 Maryam is here. With Ranya. With boundaries. With a real name I chose to protect. Some doors don’t need closing because I never really walked through them. Some people don’t need deleting because I never really was them. Let her rest. I’m good.
i think the underlying reason behind why i want to be a youtuber/content creator is not just because i don’t like working at an average job, but because my nervous system has quite literally never had any real break. stressful situation after stressful situation and all for what? a small check that’s only going to all my bills. at least if i’m making content i can have fun doing what i enjoy and making more than enough money not just for bills but enough to continue actually living and not just surviving. it sucks though because it feels like people will just watch things and enjoy them but they don’t really interact anymore and that can be for whatever reason. i know the growth in content creation is slow but it feels like molasses now. i remember gaining over 1000 followers on an old (now deleted) account because of quite literally a video of me finding comfort in creepy and horror type of things. i wish i could go back to that because i actually had interactions with people of similar interests and mindsets now it just feels like i’m waiting for a nonexistent ball to fall into my hands. i enjoy making content because it makes me feel regulated and happy. not just because of making the content but the people who enjoy it. i know i’m gonna get there somehow but things don’t feel the same.