I don´t know who I am and neither do I know who you are. There is nobody who can answer this question for us, and there is nobody in whom we can trust in this world. Not your friends, not your family - not even yourself.

Who am I? Who are you?
Who am I? Not the body, because it is decaying; not the mind, because the brain will decay with the body; not the personality nor the emotions, for these also will vanish with death.
Often I question myself, who am I? It feels like there is no me, like there are only fragments that I have taken from others, masks that I adapt to fit the person I'm with, because I am scared of rejection if I don't fit their personality. It is hard for me to be around multiple people, because then I don't know how to act. Shall i act in the way my mom knows me? Or shall I act in the way my uncle knows me? The thought pains me, it builds up so much fear, more fear than I can hold. And so i do not act, I do not talk, I do not move; I stop being. To exist is to be, to not exist is to not be. And so I stop existing. It feels good, it feels comfortable, but although I stop being my fear does not leave me.

I have realised, multiple times, how I do not have favourites. I have realized, on multiple occasions, that I do not have characters I identify with. It feels empty. I hear people talking, about the things they love, about the characters that represent them, and I can not talk with them. There is no thing that I love, that I can talk about. I am scared of rejection. I am scared they would think I am silly, I am childish, I am weird, I have no taste. And when faced with the question, 'What do you like [doing]?', cold sweat spreads over my body. My eyes dart, my mind goes blank. I do not know what to say. What do I like [doing]? Is there such a thing I could call my favorite? Sure, I have a favorite color, but one day I just decided that it would be. I like other colors too, althoigh purple is my favorite, there are a lot of hues of purple that I do not like. Although red or blue is not my favorite, there are many hues that are beautiful in my eye. And sure, green can be nice too, oh and orange too. Yellow not so much, it is like purple, there are many hues that spark my disdain. So can I really say that purple is my favourite? I don't know why it is my favourite, I don't know if it really makes me feel different seeing something in a pretty purple than in a pretty blue.

Although there are many series that I watched, many anime that I enjoyed, there is not a single one I can call my favorite. Death Note was amazing, and one of the first I watched. But Mirai Nikki was great too, as was Owari no Seraph and Demon Slayer. Free! is amazing too, and Toradora aswell. I could name many more for this list. So many peoples can anme characters they kin, but I couldn't name even just one. There is no character, not a single one in the 150+ shows i have watched, where i could say, they are like me! Sure there are characters that I can empathize a great deal with, but never could I say they resemble me. Mabye it is because I am too hung up on all the things that don't match. If there is just one thing that's different, then i am lying. I can not represent it as fact, that this character is similair to me, when there are things that don't match. I would be lying, and I hate doing that. And maybe you don't need to have a favorite, maybe it's alright to enjoy multiple different things on the same level, but there is not one thing in this world that I could talk about for longer than 10 Minutes.

Besides my fear. I could talk endlessly about it. In fact, I have - in my therapy sessions. Although, if i think about it, my therapist was talking more than I was, reading my mind, that's what it felt like. Even with people that have learned to interact with people like me, I can not let loose. My fear still holds me tight in it's grip. I am always talking with my fear, if I ask it answers, if I answer it asks. If I talk, it talks back. I have many conversations in my head, or even talking to myself out loud. I have talked at least ten times as much with my fear than with anybody else. And maybe that makes sense, since you spend way more time on your own, than with other people. Maybe that was an understatement, it could be hundred times at much or even thousand times as much. I am bad at guessing. But know, that I do not talk a lot. I can go an entire day with saying just five sentences. If it was possible, it could be less, but my mom demands answers. Or maybe she deserves answers, there was a time where I was surrounded by almost complete silence. One word answers, nodding or shaking my head to simple yes and no questions, heck even to more complex questions I would just shrug my shoulders, because I could not be bothered to talk. Or maybe I was too tired. Maybe I was too depressed. It cost so much energy to utilize my voice. Even now, my vocal cords start hurting quickly when I talk a lot. A lot means about five minutes. If I'm in bad shape and my fear is big, even single words hurt to say and my voice is hearably cracking.

Look at how much I have written now, just about my fear. And I am nowhere close to be done. But for now I shall stop talking. You know, it feels good to ramble like this. On the internet, on a website that I made myself. Or.. I guess, utilized F2U CSS code with some modyfying. I mean, I wrote the html myself, but the Java was also not made by me. If you want to know about the sources, well, if you're already here you probably know where to look. But just press ctrl + u.
I am wondering, if anyone will ever read this. Maybe it will just be me, building my website, hopefully improving it as I learn more about coding. My little diary, that feels like I am sharing with the world, but in reality it is just me. You know, I am imagining someone else, on the other end of the internet, looking at their screen and reading my text. Oh I am constantly doing this, wondering how someone would react if they could see my actions right now, if they could hear what I am talking about. Wondering if they would be proud of me, if they would feel disdain, if they would even care at all, if they would even notice. I can not stop, it's like an automatic scrips that rolls whenever I do something.

Oh well, I shall stop talking now. Although I would want to say a lot more, now that I have just started writing I can feel the words flowing out of my mind, but it is late and I have already taken my sleep medication. I will be half dead soon, and I should be ready to sleep before that.
-Signed, 27.02.2024 22:21