I have thought of how to start this project many times. The days I live have become mundane and repetitive, so I decided to keep a journal (not calling it a diary) *(just wait a while, you will eventually, oh, and when text is written between asterisks and parentheses, it's current-me writing)* of what my life was/is like. "Who was this written for?" I'm not sure, *(illegible)* myself to look at a glorified *(glorified?)* timelapse of my handwriting getting progressively worse (optimism at its finest) *(no joke it is the exact same, the only difference it that there's less space between words)* or to anybody who picks up my old ex-pre-algebra-7 that has only been used 4 times just for the sake of reusing it. My name is B-----, -----, ------, A-----. *(I'm sensoring all names. If you want to adress me here, you can call me Pigeon.)*

*These are my thoughts.*

As the title suggests, nothing special here. This was written in a middle school cafeteria *(probably shouldn't have led with that)* (in the corner, of course) while I was sitting across from a kid who *(illegible)* about crack cocaine (a public middle school, if you couldn't tell). The band director, Mrs. D-----, announced that we were going to have chairs to estimate our abilities as individuals (not a good thing for me). I think I can get around 7-12th (not terrible, but not great either) because a lot of my fellow trumpets suck... A LOT (I should be fine). I have started many projects like this notebook before, and none have lasted for more than a week.

*I'm not hopeful.*

The human conscience is a weird thing, no one knows how it's there but have *(illegible)* and *(illegible)* agreed on its purpose: sustain life. *(no idea what you're talking about here)* But why does it strive to exist? For it cannot exist without death *(I was not aware of that one jellyfish that can turn itself into a child)* but death in turn cannot exist without life. Why am I writing this? *(good question!)* To impress others? *(I sincerely hope that's not what you thought this would do)* Myself? *(if so, you didn't)* Maybe to prove to myself that I can do something useful, hell if I know.

*Too many *(thoughts?)* to think of.*

I have had ideas. I have an idea... The mind is odd; that's unargueable. But I have always thought of it in a specific way, two seperate layers, one near and the other far. The near is the main one, doing almost everything (ex:reciting what you're reading right now). It's the same layer that songs play in, thoughts in the near layer can be pushed further back, where low levels of pain reside. The higher the intensity, the closer it is and the harder it is to push. The far layer is harder to write about. Its focus is more on things like instinct, *(illegible)* and the future; never the past. It feels diffrenet when it speaks, you can't control it on command -- it *(illegible)* a while.

*But what do I know about myself? I don't know.*

I know I haven't written a lot but here we are. I've been thinking that this entry should be written. But I wanted to keep this impersonal. But my journal, my rules. ... I take it back, I don't want to yet. I don't like talking (or writing) about myself *(still true, btw)*. Point being: most days are the same and I am desperately trying to keep it together with scotch tape while dying mentally from a combination of everything.

*This is a good outlet.*

I'm not sure what I'm writing about today, so I will let inspiration take me where it pleases. *(warning: the following section makes no sense)* Not sure where. Time to break the 4th wall's 4th wall if that makes sense?) *(no it doesn't, I fixed your grammar, and it still doesn't.)* As I have said before, I'm not sure why I'm doing this, but one thing I know I wanted to do from the start was to each passage end with something symbolic *(he means dramatic)* (ex:"I'm not hopeful") or just something true. I feel like drawing.

*Not sure what to do.*

I feel like writing today, not sure about what though. Out of ideas. Getting inspired is a pain without ideas.

I don't feel like writing today

I have a special way of going about it, for example: e-mailing a friend I haven't talked to in 2 1/2 years a link to a website that looks like its about to steal your credit card information (freekromer.com) *(guess that site isn't around anymore)* Or sending them a cryptic message coupled with an image of an impossible lego structure with *(near-illegible and too confusing to make sense out of)* Friends are good.

*Wonder if I'll get more*

I would like to share a personal story of mine. I know I shouldn't, just in case someone else reads this. *(someone that knows me, I meant)* But I want to do it. So Last summer, (2021's) I... there was too much happening *(illegible)* breaking apart, C-------- going off to college (to *(omitted)*) and more time spent alone than ever. I started seeing shadows move, but that was rather common, what was new was the voice. It only spoke in the dead of night. There was something uncanny about it, but also therapeutic. It never said anything that I could understand, but I had the innate feeling that it was human. *(It sounded like whispering)* Around August, it went away. I have not heard from it since.

*I wonder if I want it back...*

Today, I just feel like saying a few funny things. (Are they funny?) *(Not nearly as bad as I was expecting)*

-"I will break your ankles" - L----. This was said to me before (and after) issuing me a chair challenge.

-"Hey Weesome, wanna *(omitted, I'll just tell you that it rhymes with weesome)* - L---- B--------, Said completely unprompted to W----- K------. Not sure why.

-"Trombone players are called tromboners" - E---- M-----, That's all.

*(note: I did not come up with the following things)*

-P1: "What do you call an African-American man who can fly a plane?"

P2: "I don't know, what do you call an African-American man who can fly a plane?

P1: "A pilot, you racist *(omitted, really anything works here)*"

-"Roses are red,

the Illuminati has triangles,

the government has fallen,

and is run by reptiles."

-"Roses are red,

bow down to your master,

the children are fast,

but Elmo is faster."

*Need more be said?*

Death, it's always interesting. I've always been fascinated by it. A part of me is always wondering what happens after I die. So many people have so many different ideas as to what happens, so who's to say who is right?

*Should I find out?*

*(The origional tile of this passage, "Repeat", is crossed off)* There are too many things to think about, and most of such things are quite grim. Have you ever felt you are merely watching yourself live? *("dissociation" was not a word I knew of at this point)* I have, for long periods of time. Have you ever felt like every day is the same with the only diffrence being the date? *(The following section has been lightly scribbled out, this will be denoted by three hyphens being before and after the section ex: ---this---)* ---I think that life can be described in four words: "It doesn't get better" I think this--- *(I'm beginning to wonder if I had a eraser when I wrote this, also I am 99% sure you stole that quote from somewhere)* Will it ever get better? Will everything good become nothing more than memory?

*I want to go home.*

*(there was space left for this entry's tile, but there's nothing there)* I hate this feeling, I want to go back. I'm only making this journal because I'll kill myself if I don't have somewhere to put my thoughts. I'm not sure how to continue this entry

A lot of time has passed since my last entry, much has been *(illegible)*, but barely anything has changed. That is what convinced me to make this in the first place. Anyway, I don't know why, but I feel different, like there is another *(illegible, best guess is "way")*, whatever that means. I feel cautiously hopeful... I'm not sure why. I started to talk to an old friend recently, I've known him for around nine years now, should I tell him about my cuts? I won't... unless something happens.

*I'll just wait for something to happen.*

I don't know what has to happen for something to change; for the better, to be specific. I've been worrying about my family recently, my mom might be marrying someone soon (I've never met the guy) *(she didn't, she never even ended up meeting him in person, I think he also went to prison at some point)*, alongside my dad's stability (it's always worse in my head) *(illegible)* in my head of him killing himself. I've recently had thoughts of running away, starting anew, being happy, having a place I think of as home. (even if it's not the best idea this time of year)

*I don't know how to feel*

I started seeing her again recently, not in the way we used to. I miss those days. There were so many things I could have said to fix it. I don't know how she thinks of me now. I've decided to avoid writing her name (just in case someone else reads this), but I still miss her. I've avoided looking into her eyes...

*They make me *(iilegible)* miss you.*

Something feels different today, is it something in the air? Odd how the weather can make me feel better. I feel hopeful. Like there my be the smallest chance of everything getting better.

*But just a hope, and nothing more.*

How many times have I written "today feels different"? Well, today is, I'm taking a class I've already taken, and the teacher of that class offered to teach me woodshop... I'm not sure how this will go.

It's been a longer, though, a certain and fast-approaching death is near... You *(I)* are a idiot! This is because of a ------- math grade. You *(I)* don't deserve this life. When they *(everyone)* realize it, your life will never be the same. It's the only reason they don't think of you as a failure already.

*Why couldn't you have been more like *(the next word was crossed off, pretty harshly, too)**

I feel better, so much better. I don't need this notebook anymore. So... goodbye reader, until I need you again.

It's 2/22/22, and a tuesday.

*I am happier.*

I'm not sure why I'm writing this, not a whole lot has changed, except for now having my love interest's phone number. The inspiration to write a little just kinda struck me. Also, M------, If you are reading this... please don't. (I guess it's a bit late for that now, huh)

Not a whole lot has happened since the last update, aside from having gotten sick a number of times. I just feel like writing again, I think it's because of the calming feeling I get when writing solely for my own reasons. I still do weird things, like, for example: just this month, I tore off a partially-healed scab and wrote "hello" in my blood on the index page. *(There are also 4 blood smears on that page as well)* I also found out how to get to the *(redacted)* cafe on my own and was thinking about of asking M------ there. I wonder if this is a good pickup line: "I like sleeping, you like sleeping,"

*"Want to do it together sometime?"*

I've decided to start writing regularly again, not because pressing issues, but because I'm just in the mood to write again. I happen to be way too emotionally invested in ths journal. Life has been... odd. No the bad kind of odd, just odd. I've kinda run out of ideas for what to write. Uhh, update on M------, haven't asked her out, probably never will, but she seems happy. I haven't talked to R------ al all either.

*Update complete*

Drawing. I like it, but I haven't been even remotely good at it for around a year now. I still get the urge to draw every once in a while.

Sorry for forgetting to update on 4/20, I was stressed about the science and history PSAT's and the algebra ch.II test. F--- public education.

May the 4th be with you

I feel like I'm becoming better friends with B----- again, we got to play side-by-side in band today and I even got to scare him with trumpet sheet music (he plays trombone). I'm not sure how commited I am to the next thing, but I've started to learn more coding recently, not that much has been accomplished as of yet. I think the hardest part of it is just remembering everything, but I guess that can be brute-forced.

*Anyways, happy travels!*

Soooo... I'm experiencing a feeling that I imagine to be similar to that of being on death row. Did you guess testing? ... Is this even enough to be a named entry? Well, hopfully, with enough stalling, it can be! I think its about long enough now. Where will this project end, *(probably here)* will it end at all?

E---- is weird

Really weird

I am currently writing this while I'm supposed to be working on a 14-page math booklet, why does this happen to me?

(A few minutes after the last entry) about 1/3 of this class involves doing things we're not supposed to, just waiting for it to end. And that isn't even the least productive thing being done right now. This counts as creative writing, I swear!

I'm just sitting here, waiting for something to happen, preferably the bell signaling the end of 1st hour. Why is it still even called a bell? 1. it isn't a bell, it's just some audio clip being played over the speakers and 2. It sounds nothing like any bell I've ever heard or likely ever will hear. Why hasn't there been a newer name for it? People are just lazy, I guess. Like me, who's supposed to be doing algebra right now.

*Oh well...*

*(The / button on my keyboard doesn't click like the rest and it's annoying me way more that it has any right to)* I'm currently waiting for the rest of my robotics class to figure out how the by no means complicated proficiency scales work while I, a woodshop student *(those classes were tought be the same teacher at the same time, presentations were done it the computer lab and the woodshop people, just one other person and I, weren't allowed to work when he wasn't there)* cannot do more than wait, so I write, because, as mentioned previously, there's noting else to do... this is going to take a while...

*Because of course it will*

I'm feeling bored and tired, is that a surprise?

I'm unsure of my intent of writing this, but I would like to bring to light the tearing headaches I get from loud, sudden noises, *(the noise being unexpected is also an important factor, band-related things are typically fine for me)* now, this alone would be fine, however, shy/antisocial/quiet nature, teachers have a tendency to assign me next to the dumb/loud/"challenged" type kids because I'm the least likely to interact with them and cause a disturbance. So naturally, those hours are filled with headaches.

*---- you M------, seriously, ---- you!*

My last middle school band concert happened... I wanna draw on myself with a pen. Friends are like trees, if you hit them with axe enough, they die.

Summer has officially started, and I'm starting to think that I couldn't feel worse about it. I know that every single day is going to be the same. The exact ----ing same... unless I do something about it. So, I've been thinking that I would write more. *(WOW, I could not have been more wrong.)*

Ya know that self-imposed rule that states that I would never write down certain names? *(do remember that I'm talking to myself here, and that not everything I thought was written down)* Imma break that.

My overall lovelife is ----ed, completely and utterly ----ed. As of this moment, there are three people I'm considering trying to get into a serious relationship with. -- I suddenly don't want to write about it anymore.

*See you soon!*

M----- is really cute, isn't she...

"Stop seeking adventure in other people's gullets" - Markiplier

"We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when, but I know we'll meet again some sunny day."

Guess what? I relapsed again and my mind is in an odd place (no, not the suicidal one). But, I feel like I need you again. Band Camp is dauntingly close and I know I won't fre well.

*At least M----- and I are still friends.*

It's just me, hopeful and anxious as usual.

As the title suggests, I've been seeing her again (haven't talked to her yet). She's still so beautiful... I've ranted how things wouldn't work out between us. But ----, is that girl pretty.

*How do I start a conversation?*

Things went well between us, we didn't talk at all during band camp. (I did talk to M----- a lot to make it out of that one though.) Orientation was amazing, we were put into the same tour group, she made lots of dumb jokes and I couldn't help but laugh at nearly all of them. I love her.

*Of course, the only class I have with her is band, but maybe I could find her during lunch?*

MP1 just ended, Z---- (R------), and I are what she calls "besties" now... which isn't exactly what I was hoping for but, oh well... I really hope she doesn't read this... Anyways, band has been okay. So life has been better overall, I feel a lot happier now. I'm thinking about either gardening or going to therapy over the summer. *(neither of those happened)* And I still have the band Disney trip to look forward to/be scared of. Also ---- R---- (the one Z----'s dating).

*Anyways, goodnight.*

---- English 9A

Gender crises suck. Also I'm thinking about going by the nickname "Avery". *(Which is now my preferred name.)* Yes, that is an effeminate name, but it's for an effeminate boy(?), *(lol)* so it's fine. I wish I had the confidence to tell her how I really feel... (about Z----, btw). I wore a rose flower crown to homecoming, so that made me feel better. Also I have a dissociation problem, and I get auditory hallucinations a lot more often, but hey, I now have what can almost be called a friend group, so that's nice.

*Yes, I still cut myself.*

I'm not sure why I'm writing this, at least today's date looks nice... I feel drained...

Life is weird, I'm still not sure of what to make of it. *(removed, It isn't my place to write about that here)* How do I help her? Am I part of the problem? *(removed, same reason as before)*

*I just want her to feel better.*

Had my first lucid dream today, I couldn't summon anything, *(NOPE, I am definetly not putting that on the internet. Okay, it's really not that bad, but I still don't feel comfortable (or safe) writing that here)*

Z---- and I are dating now, btw.

I'm writing here again because I feel like I'm breaking... ---- english. Anyways, relationships are going well, and I got more justification for hating R----! I started questioning my gender quite a while ago... I think I'm a girl... Anyways,

*Skirts are cure, byeeeee*

I relapsed again, who the ---- decided to call these sharp---- needles safety pins? Ah well, so much for wanting to wear clothes that cover less skin... At least it works as a nice highlight with my ever-pink fingertips, it's kinda cute (in my messed-up opinion). Also, I got to take a "real" shower for the first time *(prior to this, the shower drain never worked properly, and water would pool in the bath)* it was really weird not being on a timer, being able to look at myself through the new shower curtain, I'm honestly kinda cute when I think of myself as a girl (at least Z---- thinks so). I still don't know how to come out to my parents, hell, they still don't know that I ever started cutting myself, that I'm not straight, or even that I'm dating Z----... I've even made a list of girl's chlothes I want to wear on amazon, not that I'll get the chance to use it anytime soon...

*Bye again!*

Signed up to some *(illegible)* suicide... No, I'm not suicidal, just really lonely. I don't know what to write now... Also! Also! Also, I don't need to write down my dreams to remember them! Also I think I'm psychic... I'm not (not) crazy, I swear.

Haiya, (how do you even spell that?) I'm bored, tired, and uncomfortable, our pre-festival concert is tomorrow night, and we are sooooo screwed. Also, I have to wear a suit, and that sucks.

*Dresses are way better.*

I want to start doing more with this journal again. Maybe I'll draw more? Probably not, I think I'll start recording my dreams again. I don't remember my dreams as often anymore, probably due to the lack of sleep. I love all of the little jokes I used to make here, I want to start doing this again.

*It feels like Spring.*

I don't have anything interesting to write about right now, I just have nothing better to do, writing here does a lot to calm me. *(illegible)*

I donreally don't have much to write about these days, but Spring starts soon, so I guess that's nice. I've been worrying about the band trip to Disney a lot recently, but if I'm lucky, maybe I'll see some old faces. Also, I figured out my gender! I'm an enby!

*Validation feels nice.*

Yeah, no, I was definitely right the first time.

I want to make the dream of 5/17/23 into a visual novel, I think I'll call it "lielight"

Started digitizing my journal today, this is going to take forever, isn't it? *(It took approximately 107 days, though I definitely could have done it a lot faster.)*

It feels way worse to type this out than to write it (slower too, but that's on me for never learning to type properly), but I guess that's just the cost of preservation. There's a recent realization of mine that's kinda scared me, my ability to picture images in my head is so much worse than it used to be. It's all just scratchy outlines now, I can't even reliably do color anymore--and that's terrifying. Thinking back on it now, I can now recognize that I think it's been happening since I was in early elementary school. I'm sad now.

*That's all.*

Today's date is 12/31/23, that's all

There's something wrong with me, (okay, maybe I should be more specific) I don't get cold. Well, I do, but my thresholds are so far beyond everyone I've ever known that I think there's some system in me that's seriously broken. I can just force myself to not be cold, not to shiver, not to care. My record for not shivering in everyday clothes is -15F (or -26C). I have no idea what caused this (actually, we'll get back to that) but I've never found anyone online that shares my experiences. I have a... memory? memory of a dream? (had to have been) I couldn't have been more than like 8, I remember standing outside, near a gas station. It was so, so cold. So cold it hurt. So cold it burned. So cold I felt warm again, and I don't remember anything connected to that event. But there's something that isn't right about this:

*I have NEVER felt temperature in a dream.*

So often does my mind comes back to quote "Happy people don't get stories told about them". I don't remember where it's from but it stuck with me. It gives me the feeling, and the hope, that I will be remembered by people who never knew me. Ironically, that thought makes me happy. As of writing, the "lielight stuff" page is almost empty. I was planning on eventually adding my inspiration there as well, the vibes and message of that dream match so perfectly with how I feel in this moment. I think I'll do that next... I'm going to die working, aren't I? Why am I so happy with that, so content? I guess my work just makes me happy.

*"Hot venom is mixing with my blood"*

Earlier today, when Dad was pulling up in the driveway after work, my mind filled with a repeated thought: "I want to be alone". He hadn't done anything wrong, I was having a good day, and previously considered myself to be in very well mental health (for my standards, at least). I couldn't get the thought to leave, it was entirely overwhelming. I haven't left my room since. I'm starting to be afraid of myself, looking back at that memory is kind of terrifying. What if I could be told to do something worse? I'm so scared. The worst part is that I'm almost certain I won't tell anyone about this. I hate feeling broken. I hate when people hurt themselves trying to help me. I hate being broken. The short-sleeved band concert dress is the only thing stopping my arms from being bloodied by my old boxcutter. I still keep it at my bedside, my only hope is that my resolve won't break. I could really use its comfort right now. All of this reminds me of a song lyric: "'Cause you just want to take a faster ride, lower lows, higher highs". I don't want to isolate myself from everyone else again. Treatment for everything wrong with me is far too expensive. I don't see a way out other than just hoping. Hoping this is just a repeat of last time. Hoping that if I try to make it end again, I'll fail again. Hoping it won't be noticed or cared about. That's the only my I see myself being okay. Will this diary ever leave my hands?

*I swear I'll be okay, and if I'm not, you won't have to deal with me anymore.*

Don't mind me, just cutting the tips off of pens to harvest their ink for a necklace, because I felt like it. Is there a way to both keep my terrible sleep schedule and not be so tired all the time? Y'know, it's kinda a shame I'm not hooked on caffeine or drugs, I would get so much more done if I were. I'm tired. :(

Been a while since I've been here, huh. I relapsed again, but what else is new? Every once in a while I look out and think "Avery, what the actual ---- is wrong with you?". I should hate this more, shouldn't I? I don't, I love the feeling it gives me, I love the look of my arms covered in cuts highlighted with beautifully red blood, and I love the scars left behind. It all makes me so happy. I've never gone to therapy, hell, I don't think I've gone to the doctor's for a regular check-up since elementary school. Sometimes, I love this world, even if it hates me. ... What the hell am I talking about? I was having suicidal thoughts as recently as ----ing YESTERDAY. I don't know. Anyways, I've been worried about my future, as usual. I can't think of much else,

*Just happy to be here, I guess!*

I don't feel thankful often, (or at all, really,) but I'm thankful for all of you reading this, It means a lot to me that you, someone I'll likely never know, is taking time out of their day just to listen to me. Thank you.

Aaaaaaaaand I'm already back to wanting to kill myself. Why can't I just stay happy?

An idea popped into my head today, a scene and a name. We'll see what comes of it. I'm thinking of using it as a test-run for everything I want lielight to be.

For the past while, since I got the app free from some event, I've been learning to use RPG Maker XP. There's still quite a few more basic things I need to figure out first, but its a start. I really feel hopeful about this. Oh, and the name mentioned earlier was "Westfall".

Yesterday, I came across a curious post in r/homestuck (truly the best possible start to a story). Someone wanted to make a fan-adventue and was looking for help, I, being the tired, questionable-decision maker I am, joined. I want to make something amazing, but I have no idea what I'm doing and am kinda ----ing terrified. I feel like I won't be able to be useful enough. But, I'm still going to try.

*Maybe this will be my real start.*