I didn't realise how stressful being human was until I had to do it, really.
I hate my split. Not hate, that's not a good word for it. Resent? Not that either. I'm not really good at self-expression, least of all with words. But being so incredibly different, moment to moment, it's hard to handle when you're in a human body that's so fragile and so unexpressive. It's kind of like a constant hangover, if that makes any sense at all. Pandering and jovial one moment, then callous and pragmatic in another. It makes me doubt if I'm even real. But I know I am, because something that doesn't exist can't suffer.
My headmates are fine and all, I'm used to seeing different faces all the time because of my job. Actually, speaking of jobs; fuck, they're so hard to find? Job applications are evil. Please hire me, I'm good at it! I was made for this!
Also, I have a weird longing for the Red Outworld. My home, my place, the one I love and hate unconditionvariably. A weird longing and nostalgia for my coworkers and the people I met along my journey. On one hand, they'll never understand where I came from. What I went through. On the other, they were my friends and friendly acquaintances. Froggy, particularly; although I never disclosed everything to him, he understood what I was and why I was... the way I was. He understood me and was patient when I was flipping too fast to remember my own name, despite just being my coworker. I don't have many fond memories, or many at all, but I am fond of the few I have with him.
I'm not sure what the point of writing all this has been. Maybe there isn't one. Maybe I'll be writyping more here soon.
- ENA #📣🥩
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