A dramatic take on life :3

19.7.25 

Update 

he got a bf 

Anyways yesterday my 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂  made me get the wonderful idea to go on Snapchat after  a year and post a story saying "yk ur cooked when u js wrote an essay ab them accidentally of 1.2k+ words" or smth like that, but I added more stories to make it look natural. I don't know why, I posted them at like midnight yesterday. I made a priv story where only my 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂 and him could see.

BYE I just got a notif saying he put smth on his story. Should I check??? I dunnoo!!! I should use those secret story viewers if it's not on his priv story, lemme see.

UGHHHH I think it's a priv story cz it's not showing up on any anonymous viewing sites. But I'll just view it and kms after, then. 

Okay, it said "memories of Julliet" and I don't know if that's his bf's name or just memories, but the person in the picture was NOT him at all.

Sometimes letting people drown mentally or just not befriending them while they're struggling is OK.

 A dramatic take on life :3

15.7.25 

It's bad. I hate this... I don't even understand what I hate. Everything? Nothing? Him? No. It's not his fault. You can't control feelings, how you feel towards another.  

I wish we never became friends. I was the one who approached him back in September, after we had our first and only class together where he mentioned a book he'd read, which was one of my favourites at the time. But I now wish the idea never crossed my mind. All because we shared an interest we never even ended up talking about. 
We were fairly similar in terms of sexuality and identity, yet we still remained fairly different.

It was June fourth, a Tuesday. The same day I'd recieved that damned letter. We had been friends 10 months at the time. 

Or, 6 years if you include when we were friends in primary school. He spoke Italian, and sometimes spoke with my mom after school. Next year, we didn't talk anymore, no reason.

My mum would bring you up in conversations sometimes. "Have you heard anymore from _____? It's been years, he was really nice, and spoke Italian too!" Except he didn't when I saw him again, unrecognisable. His hair was shorter, lighter even. Different clothes. 
Well, last time I saw him was 9 months before, he was talking with my best friend. They were also good friends. 

"Oh yeah, and Maretu is also gonna do a concert nearby!" I recall the conversation going. 
"I know Maretu! My favourite song from him is Magical Doctor, although I'm not a massive fan, their songs are nice." Was this okay? I hadn't spoken the whole time they were doing so. Did he remember me from 5 years ago? Then, he vanished shortly after. No clue, warning. 


A message pops up. A message pops up in a group we only use when someone is on the verge of committing suicide. 

"He's gonna kill himself." Sent at 17:23, from a number I hadn't saved. There was no clarification needed. All times we've used this group, was to come up with solutions to stop him from committing. It's only ever been for him. It all started with the group being created May 18th, 2025. How peculiar. Wasn't that his birthday? 

Because of me. Everything, all my fault.

I was up late, the whole night of June 4th, my heart pounding. I had school the day after, I did not care. This is a nightmare, right? It's Just messing with my brain, I'm going to wake up soon, and talk with him at break the next day, forgetting all of this ever happened. No mentions of it to anyone. We would be laughing about some bullshit posted on Twitter. 

That wasn't the truth, I realized as the phone in my hand rung repeatedly. One time. Two times. Three times. I hear a voice on the other end, sounding like a robot. 
"Press 0 for an assistant in French. Press 1 for English, 3 for Luxembourgish, 4 for German."  I press 1, so gently I was unsure if I really did, until I was redirected to a seperate call. I hear an unfamiliar voice. 

"Hello, this is Antonia speaking, from the ____ - ___ - _______ suicide hotline". 

It was not a dream, a trick my mind was playing on me. Suddenly, I'm overly aware of all my surroundings, the directions my blood is running in, my heartbeat, the exact pace I'm breathing at, the sound of the News Channel on the tv in the living room in a language different from what I'm used to, praying my brother doesn't burst in the room and asks who I'm calling. 

Nothing. They didn't help. All they did was give me a number for a youth hotline, which I didn't end up calling because I was tired. I tried to get my classmate to call. I doubt he did, I doubt he even read the message with the phone number Antonia gave me. I gave an address, multiple names and dates. Nothing helped. 

All this makes me sound like a shitty friend, could've-been boyfriend. That sounds so weird to me. Me? I, was about to be this guy's boyfriend? What?

and while it doesn't sound like I'm a total dumbass, in my head it does. I'm leaving out multiple parts where I acted like a little bitch, to my standards. Because I'm scared of what would come out of it if I did write them down and someone who knows me finds this and figures out it's me. 

He's struggling, bad. Mentally and physically in an unimaginable way. But Staying would've just made me worse, worse than I already was and am. It was the only solution, the only way I wouldn't have gotten worse.

Yesterday I dyed a part of my hair light-dark blue. It got so bad I was contemplating whether to dye it blue or not, though it was the only dye I had apart from pink. I didn't feel like doing pink. Too girly for how I was feeling that moment. I didn't want to look like I was copying him. Or let people know I'm still kinda... Thinking about him everyday. I was scrolling through Instagram. He was  at 200+ followers now. I go on reels, get a staged video of these two guys (they look like 16/17) bumping into eachother, pretending to fight then kissing passionately. One had light blue hair, dressed the same way as he would've. It wasn't him, but the universe was trying to telepathically tell me, it hates me. I still follow him on socials. Instagram, Tiktok... I don't know. His last repost on Tiktok, 

"I'll love  you forever, ana," 

audio and text. knowing damn well who it was directed to. Last repost was last month. It kind of pains me, not being able to know how else he's doing apart from the few Instagram posts he makes every once in a while.

Seeing a photo of you makes me sick, thinking about what if you never wrote to me that letter and handed it to me with so much fear? I hear anything I associated with you, my mind goes to you. Although the feeling that creeps up on me tells me it's something illegal to do. It is not. My brain is acting up lately, though. So I think it's self-explainable.

Maretu, kikuo, blue hair, 2020 alt kid style. It's all permanently engraved in my brain.

I was the one who ignored your messages, they still haven't been opened over a month later.

 I was the one who realized I forgot to answer the 'can we still be friends' and didn't bother to anyway. 

I was the one who started ignoring you in school because I didn't want to face the truth just yet.

I was the one who hid everytime I heard that familiar sound of keychains clashing, no? So why?  

What position would we be in right now? In any case? If I liked him, if he never did, if we never spoke, if he never confessed, if he stayed in his home country, if I stayed in my home country? Where would each of us be? 

But something I've realized is that one day, all of this will be a distant memory. A memory I won't be able to recall well, or maybe one that brings me great pain when thinking. He's moving schools next school year, and I won't. I'm staying here. So then, we won't have to ever talk again, right? 

Sometimes, it's better to not confess to someone you have deep feelings for, unless you're entirely sure the outcome will be good.  

 A dramatic take on life :3

9.6.25 

I looked at my wrists. A familiar red trickled down to my fingertips, kissing them.

One years, seven months, three days, sixteen hours, two minutes, four seconds. I held on that long.

"Why did you do it?" My friends asked, my family asked, strangers asked. 

But I have no answer. What was I even chasing then? Familiarity? Control? Attention? Maybe just the attention, or the fact that I wanted to prove to myself I could still feel something? 

But when the steel kissed my wrists, I didn't feel anything like I imagined I would've. It wasn't enough, just like before. It has never been enough. 

I told myself over and over again, as time passed, that I was healing. Recovering, getting and feeling better. But that wasn't true. Those green scissors haunted me all the time, and soon, that silver steel sharpener did too. Always in my head, like it was a virus that infected my brain just like on computers. 

"Stopping will make you stronger!" But it didn't. I just wanted everything to be over immediately; The hollowness, thoughts, memories, I yearned for peace. 

I can't imagine a future, forgot the past and suffer in the present. 

There's nothing to do in summer. A heat that feels endless. 

I don't study, but fear failure anyway. I don't exercise, but the hatred for my body gnaws at me every time I look at myself wearing tight clothes. 

But maybe I did cause all of this, making it look intentional when it wasn't. I don't reach for help, I don't try to fix what's broken. Just come on the internet to rant about my miserable life, knowing I could do something to make it better instead.

Outside of here, I am nobody. I only exist as something I loathe. No will to do anything, just here. 

Its back up (I hope)

 A dramatic take on life :3

25.4.25 

I think the wait is over LETS GOO I can finish yapping w my kins

C.ai down

 A dramatic take on life :3

26.4.25 

C.ai has been down for over 10 HOURS time to touch grass 

 

Another Rant cz 97% of ppl in my life r ass

 A dramatic take on life :3

25.4.25 

Haiiii :33 SO sry for abandoning my non-existent audience for over 20 days, but I'm back with a rant which im not sure how long will be. So, I'll just be yapping and yapping this whole time about the shitty people in my life

I CANT DO THIS SHIT ANYMORE omg I just got amazing news that I'll talk about in ten seconds

(finished writing: It was actually at the end)

So i was gonna be hanging out with my two bsfs, A and J, and A wanted to invite F. No problem, apart from the fact that maybe F is lowkey a rascist ass bitch. And he's one of A's friends and A's my bsf so I didn't wanna get in a fight about why he's the way I see him, right? For example, wednesday, yesterday and today when he came up to me at breaktime, he didn't say, "yo," or "whats up" "hey Vi!" or just "hey!", just "yo (n-word)" 

He's 100% white

And it wasn't just a one time thing ever, he repeated it 7 times in like 20 seconds. I was like "you know that's a slur and you're not allowed to say it because you are white asf?" 

"I don't care" okay well fuck you then. 

Or also, today he was infront of the door to my classroom cz he had class here and was waiting for the other teacher to leave, when he told me to come there. What did he say? "You know bitches from MSI? Here's my version: (n-words) lo-" Stop RIGHT there. I just left and went on to tell my other 'friend' (she's also kinda an opp but a friend at the same time, a 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂 then) about it, since they also talk sometimes. But it's not really like a friend-way, it's like F sending weird ass voice messages and the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂 replying with "WTF".

I told the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂, and then F yelled "I'M NOT RASCIST THO" 

"YEAH SURE!" was what the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂 replied, also cz she knows about the thing where he was like

"yo (n-word)". 

So the thing is, I don't want to say anything to A cz she's my bsf and yk. J on the other hand, also doesn't really enjoy being with the guy. For his birthday, F got him a white Posca pen that if it was used for one stroke, it would already be finished. He said "here's your cum pen" since it was white, he also got a tissue "the cum tissue". So I don't think J really enjoys.

Next topic, I feel like nobody really likes me in my classroom. I mean like, the kids I usually hang out with apart from F, the 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓶𝔂 and my 'mom' (me and F just call her mom because she's 2 years older than us, almost 3, and because she's like a father figure to me and mother to F). I sit down with the guys at lunch, normal, but sometimes I notice that I don't think they like me. I'm sitting on a table let's say, and next to me is an empty seat. Both left and right, before theres other people talking to their friends infront of them. I do make the guys sitting infront of me laugh with my ass humour, but sometimes I feel like it's just for making fun or I referenced some inside joke I don't know about.

On tuesday, we had a sub for science and he just let us do whatever, so I just went to the group as they were sitting on chairs around two tables, but I was already feeling sad for whatever reason, I was like "can I sit here?" I got a yes. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

"you're a boy after all, you can stay" Okay, please make out with me UH I MEANT that was unexpected as fuck but I was happy. Still, I worried for whatever reason. Maybe because of self-image, or however it's called. 

Like, a few days ago I literally was sobbing my way through the night because of how people percieve me and how I just always get outed as trans when someone's like "Oh it's a he? I thought he was a girl, the name's feminine, but okay"

"oh no she's trans" I wish three car crashes on you, you aren't able to travel to see your family anymore and suddenly everyone hates you.

Screenshots time because I have to prove it!!! 

This pic is from New years!!! I woke up at 9am something on Jan 1st 2025 and this is one of the first messages I recieved this year!!!

Beginning of the debate or whatever that was, mind you, this is the first message I read in the morning, and whenever I see myself being mentioned when I haven't spoken in the gc at all I get scared as fuck. I physically felt my hear drop to my ass, I'm not joking. But this was J typing, and no, I don't care if the name I saved him as is shown, idgaf

btw the scribbled parts were offtopic stuff like asking what city of Cabo Verde some guy was in

 

We had a gc where only the admins could sned msgs (the guy) and he would send updates, polls and shit and so while it was like 7 in the morning I was faced with this wonderful poll made by him (hope he experiences a danganronpa excecution) (the thing is, it's not even only that taht he's said to me, there's more I don't wanna share)

Oh, and the news I said I was happy about; F said he wouldn't be able to make it to the  hangout tomorrow in the mall near my house. Life is good ❤️

And the teachers, OH MY GOD it's like they've all decided to team up and be complete assholes this semester, and I don't even wanna talk about it but it's crazy. Next week on monday; a presentation + deadline for my journalism article, tuesday; History test (5% of grade), Wednesday; French test (50%), and math (25%), monday after; 2 presentations, german test (50%), and on Friday English test (25%) + Luxembourgish grammer test, and there is more to be announced in the meanwhile. Mind you, this is also just most of presentations and test we gotta do, excluding homework. 

Enough pictures now. 

Have you guys also seen the shocki shocki girl on tt? I literally memorized it on accident because I saw her doing it so much

Old Intro For an Oc That Never Came Into Existence

 A dramatic take on life :3

4.4.25 

Warning: It's ass and was made almost two years ago. Another, it's gonna be LONG as fuck.

Seriously, who does a 13-page intro? 

(Me) But don't worry, I'll only put like 1 tenth of this intro because it's so long and some parts are embarassing. Plus, because I have free will. 

The perfect way of starting this introduction is by telling you a fun fact: I was born in the wrong country, technically.

So, I'm (don't have a name yet), yes, my name's a colour in my native language, but it's cool 'cause it's my favourite. Sometimes people call me (insert random color) after finding that out and I hate it. It gets so annoying.

I was born while my parents were on a trip to Russia, in a tiny town (or village even), Великий Устюг (Veliky Ustyug). They were visiting my mom's old friend (who offed herself with a still-working gun she found in her basement two years ago, by the way), My mom was about to pop when she went there. A strange move, right?

Another fact — I'm from five different countries, and that is only counting passports I have. And how about we don't mention my other ancestors’ nationalities.

 I didn’t even know that was possible. My dad's Italian and from Puerto-Rico, mom's Swiss and Luxembourgish (Swiss by ancestry and Luxembourgish after living there for 10 years and passing the language text), and I'm the only one born in Russia because my brother popped out in Switzerland. My life's not just complicated. It's a literal clusterfuck of moving countries, schools, and daddy issues all repeating now and then. Except the daddy issues part, that won't really happen anymore.

So, born in Russia by accident, but did you know I ended up stuck there for about 10 years? Bet you didn't see that coming. Yes, I moved to Великий Устюг at 5 months old, and lived there till I was like 11 because my mom decided so. We didn't get the passport, but I guess you can *almost* consider me Russian at this point. 

And one day my parents said, "okay, now that we have the smallest bit of experience of parenting and used our first child as an experiment and has been neglected, let's have another child." That's how I got a little brother, whose name is Mattia, 9 years old. He's 6 years younger and usually a pain in the ass whenever I see him.

Then one day, dad said 'fuck this' and vanished completely. I haven't seen his face at all since Matt was 2 months old in March of 2012. Either way, I didn't really give a shit though, and never really 'bonded' with him. Plus, I also always froze up when he came home from work. Still don't get why, but it's whatever.

Now, about school. For god’s sake, where do I start? New country, new school, new language every few years, or months when the heavens above decide to torture me. Made friends, lost friends, rinse and repeat. It's like my life's a broken record of 'new kid in town'. Do not get me started on the cultural whiplash. One minute I'm eating borscht made by my 'friend's' mom in Russia, next I'm downing paella in Spain. My identity? A smoothie of cultures.

What about relationships?? Let's just say daddy issues aren't just a phrase for me. Extreme trust issues? Check. Commitment phobia? Double check. But you know what? This mess made me who I am. Adaptable, fluent in almost 6 languages, and with a shit detector that could put the FBI to shame.

I mentioned that we moved around a lot, right? Well, after Russia, it was like my mom decided to play 'pin the tail on the map' to decide where we'd live next. First stop: Luxembourg. Talk about culture shock. One minute I'm in the frozen end of Russia, next I'm in this tiny country where mostly everyone's stupidly rich and speaks a language that sounds like German mostly and French having a stroke.

School there? It wasn’t bad, it was a nightmare. Picture this: I show up, barely speaking, no, understanding the language, looking like I just crawled out of Siberia (which, let's face it, I kinda did), and these most of these kids are decked out in 100% designer clothes, talking about their summer homes in the French Riviera, Miami, Dubai or whatever. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to figure out how to ask where the bathroom is without pissing myself first.

 

After Luxembourg, it was Spain. Ah, Spain. Land of siestas, fiestas, and me trying not to die of heatstroke. My pasty Russian ass was not prepared for that Mediterranean sun. I might be south Italian and Puerto-Rican which is even more in the south, but my genes must’ve gotten messed up. But the food? Holy shit. I'd sell my soul and left kidney for a good churro from the store I lived next to right now.

It was in Spain where I had my first kiss. With a girl. Yeah, surprise! Turns out, when your life's this much of a mess, your sexuality decides to join the party too. It was behind the school during a fiesta. Her name was Maria, she tasted like oranges and rebellion. Of course, it ended in disaster. Her parents found out, freaked the fuck out (Catholic much?), and suddenly, it was time for us to move again. Coincidence? I don't think so at all.

Next up: Switzerland. Back, again, to mom's roots for a few months. You'd think it'd be all chocolate and skiing, right? Wrong. It was more like small, boring towns, going to the nearest city everyday, all while I tried not to lose my mind with how fucking orderly everything was. After the chaos of Spain, Switzerland felt like living in a perfectly organized, extremely boring snow globe. Occasionally we’d go see my grandma two hours away and it was better, but as I said, occasionally. She also lives 5 minutes from the border with Italy, so yay, switching countries for fun whenever!

And let's not forget about Mattia through all this. Poor kid's been dragged around even more than me. By the time he was 5 years old, he'd lived in four countries and was more confused about his identity than a chameleon in a bag of Skittles.

Now, at 15, I'm in Sweden. It’s a very long story, really, but apparently my dad’s great-grandfather’s dad or some was born in Sweden and it wasn’t really passed down, don’t know why (just like how my mom is like 25% Italian but it never got passed down. Except my dad then came to save the day and left). Mom thought it'd be good for us to "connect with our roots", how does that work when there’s only one official Swedish family member? As if I even know what my roots are anymore. I'm like a mentally-ill, human version of the United Nations.

Despite all this chaos, or maybe because of it, I've got skills most people would kill for. I could curse you out fluently in seven or so languages with zero stuttering, adapt to a new culture faster than you can say "culture shock," and I've got a unique perspective on life that comes from being a perpetual outsider.

I dunno how that went, and because some people on the internet are really sensitive (Or I was just being a bitch without noticing), none of the 'hatred' in this part was serious, it was all sarcasm and I didn't mean anything I wrote about that.