This place is like every other, there is noone to listen to the canary's song but maybe the echoes travel far enough for it to be worth even a slight glance
Who knows, this might be my last song before the exchaution takes me, its been a long while, not even I can tell.
Maybe you'll find the answers you seek here once
There's no reason for me to beat around the bush, noone is here to guess anyway, so I'll just say it clear, I am not meant to be alive.
Which sounds horribly dramatic in itself, but its the truth.
Before I was even born, my sister at 8 years old threatened she'll "teach me to reach into electricity sockets" when she found it I was gonna exist
I was born with a heart condition, I was never meant to survive being born in the first place, I spent my first two weeks on this earth isolated in a hospital. I never really knew comfort, love, family, all I ever deserved was that cold white room where there was nothing but the struggle to stay alive.
And somehow I did, even though my heart was too big for my body, I lived, I survived.
I believe not even my parents thought I'd be slive for long, my early childhood is filled with memories of being pulled out from school constantly to take me places outside the country. I never forgot the little boy in Greece who we bought a toy car for for his birthday or the dog that smelled like cinnamon
But as soon as I got old enough, and it was clear that I survived long enough for my body catch up with the size of my heart, suddently I became invisible.
And so, I adjusted, even just as a smsll child I went quiet to not bother the people around me anymore, and when my parents noticed that their kid who was once so full of live just went blank, they panicked. I was hospitalized for months as they were trying to find out what was wrong, there were no other kids in my section for long. My grandma vidited a lot, she was one of my only company but I can't recall too much. The only thing I can remember is the thing in my arm that they were meant to use for injections (butterfly?) being put in wrong and the fact that apparently there was nothing wrong
I was a "trouble child". I cried at every small thing that didn't go my way, I to this day remember sobbing my eyes out for hours when for a poem reciting competition my teacher assigned me a poem about "being a bad kid". I never wanted to be bad, simply noone taught me how to be good
I was allowed on the internet far too early, I used to be on the family computer an awfull lot, seeking comfort in content creators, pokemon and weird music. I to this day remember being a small kid and requesting my dad to put on "Dollhouse" by M*lanie (which is why its hard to get our core little who is me from that time to stop listening to her, cause of all the things she done) and him just staring in confusion and slight concern at the video clip as I happily played with my toys.
!!--------------------------!!
- this part has a lot of themes of s3xual trauma which I do not know where it originates from but please read with caution, I do not mean to trigger anyone -
I don't know where this idea first came from, but I still remember the SA scene I played out with my toys, than I stared blanlky knewing something was wrong, but I never knew what. When I got my first own device I found myself in weird communities, early instagram didn't have many guidelines and noone minded sexting a very obvious child with broken english, than amino came and the rabbit hole just went deeper.
!!--------------------------!!
MORE TBA HONESTLY THISNWAS MEANT TO STAY IN DRAFTS OHWELL
