Dear despair,
(n.) The complete loss or absence of hope.
There is nothing going well for me. I am in anguish and riddled with desperation for the seemingly unachievable. Dereliction and enouement define my life. I am spiraling on a downward plunge into an anguish abyss.
I am ringlorn and bury myself in books to pretend I live in a world other than this one. I ponder onism constantly and my mind is permeated with sonder and existential crises.
I have immersed myself in pages that allow me to travel far away from this life caused by my own actions, full of regret and self-hatred, and cursing myself for my irresponsibility and mental state. In the very end, while this is all extremely melodramatic, I am in despair. However, you need not be worried. No help can save me at this point, and I simply have to deal with these unintentionally self-induced circumstances.
I think I jinxed my life somehow, as everything that could go wrong has done so. From loss of friends to conflict with family, from failing grades to failing life, from a little bit sad to just-got-out-of-the-mental-hospital-for-the-third-time, everything is abysmal.
I am certainly trying my best, but my best is not good enough. I wish I could have a fresh start, at least this year if not this life. That is impossible, but I wish nonetheless. Perhaps I will fall asleep and wake up in 2018, the year it all went downhill. There are so many things I would do differently.
But wishing on a star unfortunately only works in fairy tales, and thus I am stuck in this seemingly pointless and miserable existence.
Sincerely,
Tangerine Boy
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