August 21st, 2024
I got a taste of what Spring will do to my body. This low grade fever becomes unbearable as soon as the temperature goes above 20 degrees. My head throbs and I can't hear myself think. What little motivation and ambition I have fades away and I have to just stop.
I wish I could get a doctor to check out my infection without getting ignored because I ask about COVID policy. It's hard out here.
Maybe my death won't be a quick one but a slow one and maybe it's already started. I can't stand seeing ignorant joy in the world but at least the pills make it... all the same. Passable, forgettable, not my people, move on.
I just have a bad time on this earth and I need to scream about how there's no respite for me. I can't just leave it here and go out into the world like everything's normal. Or maybe my social battery's just low.
I clearly need this diary to understand my pain. Even if it feels like digging a hole of misery deeper and deeper. But it wasn't the diary that put me down here, I'm just exploring it.