i think there's a part of me that wants to be a hikikomori. that wants to move to japan and hole myself up in an apartment and squander the opportunity i've been given. i think there's a part of me that wants to sit inside and draw porn or make games or draw porn for games i'm making for a living, and then spend that money on konbini food and rare figures. i want a room that's full to bursting with merchandise, i want a pink tumblr blog where i post pictures of my sad life and people call it aesthetic, i want to post to chanboards and indulge in this reclusive fantasy of mine. i want a psychotic break to hit me hard and i want to give in to it, i want to let it consume me. i want to be free. i want to disappear into my own mind and i want to fall asleep surrounded by dakimakura. i want someone to call me an otaku and mean it as an insult. i want to embody the obsession that i am, the freak that i am, melting on the outside like i'm molding on the inside. but as much as that feels like the life i should be leading, as clearly as i can see it right in front of me, as little as it feels like i belong here, as much as it feels like i belong in a tiny crowded bedroom too hot from the heat of my pc and the insulation of too many faux-silk scrolls and plush dolls, as much as i want to have a dollhouse inside my dollhouse inside my dollhouse, i know that won't happen. i know i'm going to keep living my life where i'm a mathematics and computer science major at a state university and get a degree that might give me some good job offers. but will it give me comfort? i don't know. i don't know anymore.
every time i cry, all i can think is "i don't want to be here anymore." i'm not crying right now. i feel numb. i came up to my too-hot room (from the heatwave, not too-hot like it's supposed to be) so i could, but i'm not. instead i'm just typing this and realizing how fucking stupid the thing i want is. i don't want to be here anymore.
