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𓊆blog of an obsessive compulsive 20-something-year-old𓊇

[dirtyblondeblog]

I HATE HAVING A CRUSH (i love it)

rant/yapfest-

baddie left me on delivered for a FULL DAY after confessing our crushes on each other and planning to play dress up together. so confusing, right?

she was answering within minutes before this, being affectionate, and even told a mutual friend that she was a bit peeved about me taking long to respond.

she then proceeded to leave me on delivered all day yesterday and into this morning.

so then she opens the snapchat today, and saves it in the fucking chat. it was a picture of my face. but she didn’t respond with any words she just sent a pic back of her face.

then i see im now added to her private story???

girl, so confusing.

[lamamosabfamily]

will not forgive anyone who sees this post and ignores us

I am writing these words with tears streaming down my face. I can no longer bear this pain.

My wife is suffering from a severe deficiency in vitamins especially vitamin D and she urgently needs surgery to save her life. Her body is growing weaker day by day, malnutrition is stealing her strength and I stand helpless watching her suffer.

All I wish for is to see her alive and healthy Please help us provide healthy food her medications, and fund the surgery that could save her life.

Even if you cannot donate please share this post Every support every word could be the difference between her life and death.

Vetted by #520

[dirtyblondeblog]

22.January.2026

“internalized esteem atrophy” (prose)

7 years- the time i was told it’d take to mold my mind, to get connections uncrossed and retentions rewired; though i’d grown tired in this game of operation, of physicians misplacing pliers. impatiently waiting to evade the role of patient, feeling ancient and aching in the wake of these changes, i feel delayed, decaying; envying days i’d be praised as a plaything. i’m stuck in my ways, as my ways are what saved me when stuck in the haze of hospital stays— i was thought to escape, but i’m seemingly stuck again lately.

lifting weights, red in the face, i have to embrace this process of pacing. no picture of grace, no ego inflate, no rambunctious rush of racing.

i guess i didn’t wanna believe it, or didn’t know what it truly implied. it’s 7 years back to true form, to the parts of me who died. the catch, however: it’s all freshly grown; and it’s only been about 4 years, which must mean some parts of me are only 4 years old. and it’s a fact i’m fearful to admit, and so my deficits are not accommodated. and i have to decide if i can take it; the high maintenance dedication to the overtaking imitation of normality, burning me to a crisp; or i can decide to replace it with my brain laced along my sleeve; to lay it all out on the table, admit i’m unstable, get laminated and labeled as both a pet and a peeve. a person unable, a fetus to cradle, self-centered, ungrateful, a no-good nuisance of labor, insistent on a savior, sucking up medical leave. additions to itineraries inconsistent with what’s integratabtle. taught to feel a coward with a crutch, all my power is hushed, i feel i’m too much, mentally. i’ve been taught to hate myself, to grow rose-flushed in disgust at the thought of my destiny. to grow a damning disgust towards my own special needs.

i stopped my stretching, i stopped visits to the gym, stopped training my recollection and my attention span. i let my brain fry with drugs and blue light, i wanted to know what it felt like to be a simple sheep. i lie and say i like playing blind, til im alone at night, restlessly wrestling with sheets. i want a lifeline, want to know how to get by, i wanna know the cheats. i can’t find them so i get high, i float through the sky where no one can see— my body plays blind, my mind roams free. she expands and tunnels through me, building clouds of condensed tears. singing songs she feels she can’t sing aloud, until they could possibly be perceived as profound. after this long round of 7 years.

[dirtyblondeblog]

poem (15 January 2026)

she watched her future grandchildren’s future long lost grandfather walk away

with no will left to stop it

she’d shelter the topic

‘til her little dav-id returned the mixtape

back to sender

to his daddy’s new address

with his daddy’s new kids

and a new wife named patty

he made into a Smith

to a new home built on his madness

and blood money sins.

and it’s all a derivative of his affinal genesis, he has been left with an imitation.

he dared double-cross her, now his future long lost grandchildren

carry the condemnation of the desolation he brought upon their aunts, their uncles,

upon their parents, upon the barren bed of their grandmother.

[skeletomez]

[dirtyblondeblog]

poem (15 January 2026)

all my concerns

evergreen,

on high alert

chasm ravine,

my mind is dirt

my mind is dirt.

all my concerns

bury me,

lessons unlearnt

untethering,

vines of earth

vines of earth.

all my concerns

tend to gleam—

schematic pyro,

lesioned; burnt

craniotomy—

magnetic blindfold,

bible verse

bible verse.

[dirtyblondeblog]

[dirtyblondeblog]

i’ve been thinking about taking my life a lot again. just can’t seem to stand solid under all this emotional pressure and perceived incompetence. i wish that AVM never ruptured in my brain when i was 16. i wish i never got raped when i was 17. i wish i never had to go through any of it, because im scared it all changed me for the worst. i’ve been struggling with a terminal cycle of bargaining and failing and self-loathing. who am i even fighting for anymore?

i would like to opt. out now.

[dirtyblondeblog]

edit of death drop gorgeous

[dirtyblondeblog]

edit of death drop gorgeous

[dirtyblondeblog]

i feel like im on pause

[dirtyblondeblog]

𓊆ྀི.27november2025. 2:21am. entry #3.𓊇ྀི

dear MeadowWood nurse,

“she just liked to snack on a bedtime cookie,

and the asylum's confinement overtook me..

we were overtaken,

robbed of all we had,

and stripped down naked.

i was furious

at the malpractice more blatant than it was deleterious.

deduced to no more than patients, high-maintenance, gone mad and stir-crazed with cuts on our wrists.

she just liked to have a bedtime cookie, with a book to read;

a typical craving for fine blinks of bliss.

taking solace in her only sense of normalcy, she saved them up;

did your staff ever think maybe we never ate enough?

did you reconcile the wounds you prodded

as you investigated and acknowledged a child's weight?

i begged your pardon,

because i know acts of hate stick more than any form of apology.

here, she came, merely to get better,

but a nurse interfered, hurling words 'round her peers

'bout how poorly she appears, ‘bout what lie beneath her sweater.

you blamed her, shamed her, made a bastard of a cookie.

i watched her eyes well up like gutters clogged with debris

as you demeaned her size;

she tried to stay silent

but i had to speak, and thank god i did.

we'd hug as you'd leave and she could really believe an adult had her back. i was just 17 but she was 13, so i was akin to, at least, a big sister at that.

sometimes i still miss her

and wish for her safety

i got out on good behavior,

i hope i saved her

because she saved me—

because when thou vow to love thy neighbor,

thy neighbor is bound to love thee.”

-dirtyblonde

[dirtyblondeblog]

today in the nail salon, the woman next to me remarked, “is that black?”. i confirmed, and she continued on; “it looks nice on your young hands. It wouldn’t look like that on me…”, and mumbled off. i scanned my mind for a wise anecdote, anything, any quick quip reassuring her of her beauty and youth, though all i could muster was the cough of a coy giggle. the worker called me “sexy baby” like 15 minutes prior. i will continue aging just like them— how do i avoid this cycle of youth-envy?

[dirtyblondeblog]

i get that craving to reinvent myself; right? so i highlight my hair and get my nails painted. still, i am ignorant of my schoolwork. i have goals, i want to chase them, and yet i collapse in my exhaustion when i’ve only just started. no longer am i a child ahead of their time. my adulthood requires a certain growth i still am learning

[dirtyblondeblog]

glitter glue lipgloss on glitter glue discharge

[dirtyblondeblog]

26 November 2025. 11:11am. entry #2.

𓈖𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵𓈖

dear diary,

i smoke too much weed and i’m failing my classes and i need to get evaluated for autism. thank you for listening.

i luv u

-dirtyblonde

[dirtyblondeblog]

26 November 2025.. 2:06am.. entry #1

𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏 𝜗 ♱ 𝜚 𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏𓏏

dear diary,

The auditory calm of rainfall draped itself around me throughout my entire afternoon and evening. It’s a comfort akin to that of a heated hospital blanket cradling me after a surgery— a distraction from the discomfort of recovery. Recovery has become my reality, more or less. At times, I feel no more than a patient; neuro., gyno., psych., gastro., immune system, etc.. I try to clear it all from my mind, but the symptoms occur and i have to chose to either accept myself and my reality and to cope with it, or to dismiss myself and delay my progress as a result. it can be so damn annoying to be chronically ill. but today, i listened to the rain, and my friend lightened my hair while we watched a random campy movie and chatted. We made chicken tenders and fries in the oven and took turns showering out our hair dye. i let them borrow my hello kitty pajama pants and a sheer magenta tee and they looked so cutesy. today was a fun day and i feel pretty. i can still feel my mind running in obsessive circles, but it’s late and time to relax.

i luv u <3

-dirtyblonde